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THE OTHERS STOOD LOOKING AFTER HER. 


• (See page 110 .) 







M 

tjVl . v'tvi-i' ; .-v^ (JW a,vc<t, " 

The 

Story of the Amulet 

BY 

E. I^SBIT 

AUTHOR OF “ THE TREASURE SEEKERS,” 

“the would-be-goods,” etc. 


WITH 48 ILLUSTRATIONS BY H. R. MILLAR 





NEW YORK 

E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY 

31 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 


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TO 

DR. WALLIS BUDGE 

OF 

THE BEITISH MUSEUM 
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 
A SMALL TOKEN OF GRATITUDE FOR HIS 
UNFAILING KINDNESS AND HELP IN 


THE MAKING OF IT, 




CONTENTS 



K>« 




CHAPTER 

I. THE PSAMMEAD 

. 

• 

PAGE 

15 

II. 

THE HALF AMULET . 

• 

• 

37 

III. 

THE PAST 

• 

• 

56 

IV. 

EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS AGO 

• 

• 

73 

V. 

THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE 

• 

• 

97 

VI. 

THE WAY TO BABYLON 

• 

• 

119 

VII. 

“ THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 

CASTLE MOAT ” . 

BELOW 

THE 

144 

VIII. 

THE QUEEN IN LONDON 

• 

• 

172 

IX. 

ATLANTIS 

• 

• 

204 

X. 

THE LITTLE BLACK GIRL 

C^SAR 

AND JULIUS 

231 

XI. 

BEFORE PHARAOH 

• 

• 

256 

XII. 

THE SORRY-PRESENT, AND THE EXPELLED 

LITTLE BOY .... 

288 

XIII. 

THE SHIPWRECK ON THE TIN 

ISLANDS 

• 

319 

XIV. 

THE heart’s desire 

9 

• 

• 

345 








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LIST OP ILLUSTEATIONS 




THE OTHERS STOOD LOOKING AFTER HER. FrontispieCB 

PAGE 

HE FOUND HIMSELF FACE TO FACE WITH THE PSAMMEAD 1 28 

“but there’s only half of IT HERE 1 ’’ . .48 

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WALL WAS A MUMMY-CASE . 58 

HE FIXED HIS SPY-GLASS IN HIS EYE AND LOOKED AGAIN 63 

THE OPENING OF THE ARCH WAS SMALL, BUT CYRIL SAW 

THAT HE COULD GET THROUGH IT . . .78 

THE GIRL HELD OUT HER ARM. ANTHEA SLID THE 

BANGLE ON IT . . . . .84 

THE CROWD PAUSED A DOZEN YARDS AWAY TO LOOK AT 

THE LACE COLLAR . . . . .90 

A MAN BOUNDED IN THROUGH THE OPENING IN THE 

THORN-HEDGE . . . . . .95 

“THESE ARE YOUR FOLK,’’ SAID THE HEADMAN, TURNING 

SUDDENLY AND ANGRILY ON CYRIL . . . 100 

EVERY MAN, WOMAN, AND CHILD IN THE VILLAGE FELL 

ON ITS FACE ON THE SAND .... 104 

11 


12 LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

OUT PEEPED THE BAT’s EARS AND SNAIL’s EYES OF THE 

PSAMMEAD ...... Ill 

OUT BEYOND IT WAS THE GLARING EGYPTIAN SKY, THE 

BROKEN WALL, THE CRUEL, DARK, BIG-NOSED FACE . 114 

IN FRONT OF THEM THEY COULD SEE A GREAT MASS OF 

BUILDINGS . . . . . .132 

THEY APPROACHED THE GATES OF BABYLON . . 134 

“ THREE CHILDREN FROM THE LAND WHERE THE SUN 

NEVER SETS ” . . . . . . 142 

DIFFERENT PEOPLE CAME AND DID AMUSING THINGS . 158 

THE KING STOOD UPRIGHT, PERFECTLY STILL, LIKE THE 

STATUE OF A KING IN STONE .... 162 

NISROCH RAISED HIS GREAT ARM AND POINTED AT THE 

WALL OF THE DUNGEON .... 168 

“HOLD IT UP, AND SAY THE WORD,” CRIED CYRIL . 171 

“l NEVER COME OUT LIKE THIS,” SAID THE BOOTLACE- 

SELLER ...... 183 

IT WAS FOLLOWED BY MORE STONE IMAGES . . 190 

“i’ll LEND YOU A POUND,” SAID THE LEARNED GENTLE- 
MAN . . . . . . . 194 

ALL THE PEOPLE IN THAT STREET FOUND THEIR HANDS 

FULL OF THINGS TO EAT AND DRINK . . 197 

“ THE STONE IS OF OUR COUNTRY,” HE SAID . . 213 

IT WAS A GLORIOUS RIDE ..... 217 


“ BEHOLD THE TEMPLE OF POSEIDON,” SAID THE CAPTAIN 221 


LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS 


13 


PAGE 

THEY ALL HID THEIR EYES FOR A MOMENT . . 227 

« 

ANTHEA SPREAD THE COAT ON THE GROUND, AND PUTTING 

THE PSAMMEAD ON IT, FOLDED IT ROUND . . 241 

“ OH, IT IS MOTHER — IT IS ! ” CRIED IMOGEN-FROM- 

LONDON ...... 245 

JULIUS C^SAR SAT ON A CHAIR OUTSIDE HIS TENT . 249 

THEY EXPLAINED THE GUN TO C^SAR VERY FULLY . 252 

‘‘ LET US STRIKE FOR MORE BREAD AND ONIONS AND 

BEER,” THE SPEAKER WENT ON . . . 265 

PHARAOH EXAMINED ALL THE THINGS WITH GREAT 

INTEREST ...... 276 

“well!” said the soldier when he came in, “I 

REALLY AM ’ .... 281 

THE SOLDIER FELL FLAT ON HIS FACE AMONG THE 

JEWELS ...... 286 

RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM, UNDER A GLASS CASE, WAS 

THE AMULET ...... 295 

THERE WAS A BIG GARDEN WITH TREES AND FLOWERS 

AND SMOOTH GREEN LAWNS .... 298 

A LADY IN SOFT GREEN CLOTHES CAME OUT . . 303 

“ OH, LOOK AT THEIR FACES, THEIR HORRIBLE FACES ! ” 

SHE CRIED ...... 310 

AT A TABLE BY THE WINDOW SAT THE LEARNED GENTLE- 
MAN ....... 312 

THEY WERE FASTENING RUSH BASKETS TO A LONG ROPE 323 

“ that’s jolly good,” said ROBERT, AS A NAKED BROWN 

ODY CLEFT THE WATER .... 329 


14 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

PHELES, CROUCHED BESIDE A DIM LANTERN, STEERED 

BY THE SHILLING COMPASS .... 339 

THE WORD WAS SPOKEN, AND THE TWO GREAT ARCHES 

GREW ....... 342 

THE PRIEST WAS JERKED BACK BY A ROPE THROWN OVER 

HIS HEAD ...... 353 

“they ARE COMING 1 ” CRIED REKH-MARA . . 363 

THE CHILDREN CAST DOWN THEIR EYES. AND SO DID 


EVERY ONE 


369 


The Story of the Amulet 


CHAPTER I 

THE PSAMMEAD 

There were once four children who spent 
their summer holidays in a white house, 
happily situated between a sandpit and a 
chalkpit. One day they had the good fortune 
to find in the sandpit a strange creature. Its 
eyes were on long horns like snail’s eyes, and 
it could move them in and out like telescopes. 
It had ears like a bat’s ears, and its tubby 
body was shaped like a spider’s and covered 
with thick soft fur — and it had hands and 
feet like a monkey’s. It told the children — 
whose names were Cyril, Robert, Anthea, and 
Jane — that it was a Psammead or sand-fairy. 
(Psammead is pronounced Sammy-ad.) It was 
old, old, old, and its birthday was. almost at 
the very beginning of everything. And it had 
been buried in the sand for thousands of 
years. But it still kept its fairylikeness, and 
part of this fairylikeness was its power to 
give people whatever they wished for. You 

15 


16 


THE AMULET 


know fairies have always been able to do 
this. Cyril, Robert, Antbea, and J ane now 
found their wishes come true ; but, somehow, 
they never could think of just the right 
things to wish for, and their wishes some- 
times turned out very oddly indeed. In the 
end their unwise wishings landed them in 
what Robert called “ a very tight place 
indeed,” and the Psammead consented to help 
them out of it in return for their promise 
never never to ask it to grant them any more 
wishes, and never to tell any one about it, 
because it did not want to be bothered to 
give wishes to any one ever any more. At 
the moment of parting Jane said politely — 

“I wish we were going to see you again 
some day.” 

And the Psammead, touched by this friendly 
thought, granted the wish. The book about 
all this is called “ Five Children and It,” and 
it ends up in a most tiresome way by saying — 

“ The children did see the Psammead again, 
but it was not in the sandpit ; it was — but I 
must say no more ” 

The reason that nothing more could be said 
was that I had not then been able to find 
out exactly when and where the children met 
the Psammead again. Of course I knew they 
would meet it, because it was always a beast 
of its word, and when it said a thing would 
happen, that thing happened without fail. 
How different from the people who tell us 
about what weather it is going to be on 


THE PSAMMEAD 


17 


Thursday next, in London, the South Coast, 
and Channel ! 

The summer holidays during which the 
Psammead had been found and the wishes 
given had been wonderful holidays in the 
country, and the children had the highest 
hopes of just such another holiday for the 
next summer. The winter holidays were 
beguiled by the wonderful happenings of 
“The Phoenix and the Carpet,” and the loss 
of these two treasures would have left the 
children in despair, but for the splendid hope 
of their next holiday in the country. The 
world, they felt, and indeed had some reason 
to feel, was full of wonderful things — and 
they were really the sort of people that 
wonderful things happen to. So they looked 
forward to the summer holiday; but when 
it came everything was different, and very, 
very horrid. Father had to go out to 
Manchuria to telegraph news about the war 
to the tiresome paper he wrote for — the 
Daily Bellower, or something like that, was 
its name. And Mother, poor dear Mother, 
was away in Madeira, because she had been 
very ill. And The Lamb — I mean the baby — 
was with her. And Aunt Emma, who was 
Mother’s sister, had suddenly married Uncle 
Reginald, who was Father’s brother, and they 
had gone to China, which is much too far off 
for you to expect to be asked to spend the 
holidays in, however fond your aunt and 
uncle may be of you. So the children were 
2 


THE AMULET 


IS 

left in the care of old Nurse, who lived in 
Fitzroy Street, near the British Museum, and 
though she was always very kind to them, 
and indeed spoiled them far more than would 
be good for the most grown up of us, the 
four children felt perfectly wretched, and 
when the cab had driven off with Father and 
all his boxes and guns and the sheepskin, 
with blankets and the aluminium mess-kit 
inside it, the stoutest heart quailed, and the 
girls broke down altogether, and sobbed in 
each others arms, while the boys each looked 
out of one of the long gloomy windows of 
the parlour, and tried to pretend that no 
boy would be such a muff as to cry. 

I hope you notice that they were not 
cowardly enough to cry till their Father had 
gone ; they knew he had quite enough to 
upset him without that. But when he was 
gone every one felt as if it had been trying 
not to cry all its life, and that it must cry 
now, if it died for it. So they cried. 

Tea — with shrimps and watercress — cheered 
them a little. The watercress was arranged 
in a hedge round a fat glass salt-cellar, a 
tasteful device they had never seen before. 
But it was not a cheerful meal. 

After tea Anthea went up to the room 
that had been Father’s, and when she saw 
how dreadfully he wasn’t there, and remem- 
bered how every minute was taking him 
further and further from her, and nearer and 
nearer to the guns of the Russians, she cried 


THE PSAMMEAD 


19 


a little more. Then she thought of Mother, 
ill and alone, and perhaps at that very 
moment wanting a little girl to put eau-de- 
cologne on her head, and make her sudden 
cups of tea, and she cried more than ever. 
And then she remembered what Mother had 
said, the night before she went away, about 
Anthea being the eldest girl, and about 
trying to make the others happy, and things 
like that. So she stopped crying, and thought 
instead. And when she had thought as long 
as she could possibly bear she washed her 
face and combed her hair, and went down 
to the others, trying her best to look as 
though crying were an exercise she had never 
even heard of. 

She found the parlour in deepest gloom, 
hardly relieved at all by the efforts of Robert, 
who, to make the time pass, was pulling Jane’s 
hair — not hard, but just enough to tease. 

“Look here,” said Anthea. “Let’s have a 
palaver.” This word dated from the awful 
day when Cyril had carelessly wished that 
there were Red Indians in England— and 
there had been. The word brought back 
memories of last summer holidays and every 
one groaned ; they thought of the white 
house with the beautiful tangled garden— late 
roses, asters, marigold, sweet mignonette, 
and feathery asparagus — of the wilderness 
which some one had once meant to make into 
an orchard, but which was now, as Father 
said, “five acres of thistles haunted by the 


20 


THE AMULET 


ghosts of baby cherry-trees.” They thought 
of the view across the valley, where the 
lime-kilns looked like Aladdin’s palaces in 
the sunshine, and they thought of their own 
sandpit, with its fringe of yellowy grasses 
and pale, stringy-stalked wild flowers, and 
the little holes in the cliff that were the 
little sandmartens’ little front-doors. And 
they thought of the free fresh air smelling 
of thyme and sweetbrier, and the scent of 
the wood-smoke from the cottages in the 
lane — and they looked round old Nurse’s 
stuffy parlour, and Jane said — 

“ Oh, how different it all is ! ” 

It was. Old Nurse had been in the habit of 
letting lodgings, till Father gave her the 
children to take care of. And her rooms were 
furnished “for letting.” Now it is a very odd 
thing that no one ever seems to furnish a 
room “for letting” in a bit the same way 
as one would furnish it for living in. This 
room had heavy dark red stuff curtains — the 
colour that blood would not make a stain 
on — with coarse lace curtains inside. The 
carpet was yellow, and violet, with bits of 
grey and brown oilcloth in odd places. The 
fireplace had shavings and tinsel in it. There 
was a very varnished mahogany chiffonnier, 
or sideboard, with a lock that wouldn’t act. 
There were hard chairs — far too many of 
them — with crochet antimacassars slipping off 
their seats, all of which sloped the wrong 
way. The table wore a cloth of a cruel 


THE PSAMMEAD 


21 


green colour with a yellow chain-stitch pattern 
round it. Over the fireplace was a looking- 
glass that made you look much uglier than 
you really were, however plain you might be 
to begin with. Then there was a mantel- 
board with maroon plush and wool fringe that 
did not match the plush ; a dreary clock like a 
black marble tomb — it was silent as the grave 
too, for it had long since forgotten how to 
tick. And there were painted glass vases 
that never had any flowers in, and a painted 
tambourine that no one ever played, and 
painted brackets with nothing on them. 

“ And maple-framed engravings of the Queen, 

The Houses of Parliament, the Plains of Heaven, 

And of a blunt-nosed woodman’s flat return.” 

There were two books — last December’s 
“ Bradshaw,” and an odd volume of Plum- 
ridge’s “ Commentary on Thessalonians.” 
There were — but I cannot dwell longer on 
this painful picture. It was indeed, as Jane 
said, very different. 

“ Let’s have a palaver,” said Anthea again. 

“ What about ? ” said Cyril, yawning. 

“There’s nothing to have anything about,” 
said Robert kicking the leg of the table 
miserably. 

“I don’t want to play,” said Jane, and her 
tone was grumpy. 

Anthea tried very hard not to be cross. 
She succeeded. 

“ Look here,” she said, “ don’t think I want 


22 


THE AMULET 


to be preachy or a beast in any way, but I 
want to what Father calls define the situation. 
Do you agree ? ” 

“ Fire ahead,” said Cyril without enthusiasm. 

“Well, then. We all know the reason 
we’re staying here is because Nurse couldn’t 
leave her house on account of the poor 
learned gentleman on the top-fioor. And 
there was no one else Father could entrust 
to take care of us — and you know it’s taken 
a lot of money Mother’s going to Madeira 
to be made well.” 

Jane snifPed miserably. 

“Yes, I know,” said . Anthea in a hurry, 
“but don’t let’s think about how horrid it 
all is. I mean we can’t go to things that cost 
a lot, but we must do something. And I 
know there are heaps of things you can 
see in London without paying for them, and 
I thought we’d go and see them. We are 
all quite old now, and we haven’t got The 
Lamb ” 

Jane sniffed harder than before. 

“I mean no one can say ‘No’ because of 
him, dear pet. And I thought we must get 
Nurse to see how quite old we are, and let 
us go out by ourselves, or else we shall never 
have any sort of a time at all. And I vote 
we see everything there is, and let’s begin by 
asking Nurse to give us some bits of bread 
and we’ll go to St. James’s Park. There are 
ducks there, I know, we can feed them. Only 
we must make Nurse let us go by ourselves.” 


THE PSAMMEAD 


23 


“ Hurrah for liberty ! ” said Robert, “ but 
she won’t.” 

“Yes she will,” said Jane unexpectedly. 
“/ thought about that this morning, and I 
asked Father, and he said yes ; and what’s 
more he told old Nurse we might, only he 
said we must always say where we wanted 
to go, and if it was right she would let us.” 

“Three cheers for thoughtful Jane,” cried 
Cyril, now roused at last from his yawning 
despair. “ I say, let’s go now.” 

So they went, old Nurse only begging them 
to be careful of crossings, and to ask a police- 
man to assist in the more difficult cases. But 
they were used to crossings, for they had lived 
in Camden Town and knew the Kentish Town 
Road where the trams rush up and down like 
mad at all hours of the day and night, and 
seem as though, if anything, they would 
rather run over you than not. 

They had promised to be home by dark, 
but it was July, so dark would be very late 
indeed, and long past bedtime. 

They started to walk to St. James’s Park, 
and all their pockets were stufPed with bits 
of bread and the crusts of toast, to feed the 
ducks with. They started, I repeat, hut they 
never got there. 

Between Fitzroy Street and St. J ames’s Park 
there are a great many streets, and, if you go 
the right way you will pass a great many 
shops that you cannot possibly help stopping 
to look at. The children stopped to look at 


24 


THE AMULET 


several with gold-lace and beads and pictures 
and jewellery and dresses, and hats, and oysters 
and lobsters in their windows, and their 
sorrow did not seem nearly so impossible to 
bear as it had done in the best parlour at 
No. 300, Fitzroy Street. 

Presently, by some wonderful chance turn 
of Robert’s (who had been voted Captain 
because the girls thought it would be good 
for him — and indeed he thought so himself 
— and of course Cyril couldn’t vote against 
him because it would have looked like a 
mean jealousy), they came into the little 
interesting criss-crossy streets that held the 
most interesting shops of all — the shops where 
live things were sold. There was one shop 
window entirely filled with cages, and all 
sorts of beautiful birds in them. The children 
were delighted till they remembered how they 
had once wished for wings themselves, and 
had had them — and then they felt how des- 
perately unhappy anything with wings must 
be if it is shut up in a cage and not allowed 
to fly. 

“It must be fairly beastly to be a bird in 
a cage,” said Cyril. “ Come on ! ” 

They went on, and Cyril tried to think out 
a scheme for making his fortune as a gold- 
digger at Klondyke, and then buying all the 
caged birds in the world and setting them 
free. Then they came to a shop that sold 
cats, but the cats were in cages, and the 
children could not help wishing some one 


THE PSAMMEAD 


25 


would buy all the cats and put them on 
hearthrugs, which are the proper places for 
cats. And there was the dog-shop, and that 
was not a happy thing to look at either, 
because all the dogs were chained or caged, 
and all the dogs, big and little, looked at 
the four children with sad wistful eyes and 
wagged beseeching tails as if they were trying 
to say, “ Buy me ! buy me ! buy me ! and let 
me go for a walk with you ; oh, do buy me, 
and buy my poor brothers too ! Do ! do ! do ! ” 
They almost said, “ Do ! do ! do ! ” plain to the 
ear, as they whined ; all but one big Irish 
terrier, and he growled when Jane patted him. 

“ Grrrrr,” he seemed to say, as he looked at 
them from the back corner of his eye — “ You 
won’t buy me. Nobody will — ever — I shall die 
chained up — and I don’t know that I care how 
soon it is, either ! ” 

I don’t know that the children would have 
understood all this, only once they had been 
in a besieged castle, so they knew how hate- 
ful it is to be kept in when you want to 
get out. 

Of course they could not buy any of the 
dogs. They did, indeed, ask the price of the 
very, very smallest, and it was sixty-five 
pounds — but that was because it was a 
Japanese toy spaniel like the Queen once had 
her portrait painted with, when she was only 
Princess of Wales. But the children thought, 
if the smallest was all that money, the biggest 
would run into thousands — so they went on. 


26 


THE AMULET 


And they did not stop at any more cat or 
dog or bird shops, but passed them by, and at 
last they came to a shop that seemed as though 
it only sold creatures that did not much mind 
where they were — such as goldfish and white 
mice, and sea-anemones and other aquarium 
beasts, and lizards and toads, and hedgehogs 
and tortoises, and tame rabbits and guinea- 
pigs. And there they stopped for a long time, 
and fed the guinea-pigs with bits of bread 
through the cage-bars, and wondered whether 
it would be possible to keep a sandy-coloured 
double-lop in the basement of the house in 
Fitzroy Street. 

“ I don’t suppose old Nurse would mind very 
much,” said Jane. “ Rabbits are most awfully 
tame sometimes. I expect it would know her 
voice and follow her all about.” 

“ She’d tumble over it twenty times a day,” 
said Cyril ; “ now a snake ” 

“ There aren’t any snakes,” said Robert 
hastily, “ and besides, I never could cotton to 
snakes somehow — I wonder why.” 

“ Worms are as bad,” said Anthea, “ and 
eels and slugs — I think it’s because we don’t 
like things that haven’t got legs.” 

“ Father says snakes have got legs hidden 
away inside of them,” said Robert. 

“ Yes — and he say’s xmve got tails hidden 
away inside tts— but it doesn’t either of it 
come to anything really,'' said Anthea. “I 
hate things that haven’t any legs.” 

“ It’s worse when they have too many,” 


THE PSAMMEAD 


27 


said Jane with a shudder, “ think of centi- 
pedes ! ” 

They stood there on the pavement, a cause 
of some inconvenience to the passers-hy, and 
thus beguiled the time with conversation. 
Cyril was leaning his elbow on the top of a 
hutch that had seemed empty when they had 
inspected the whole edifice of hutches one by 
one, and he was trying to reawaken the 
interest of a hedgehog that had curled itself 
into a ball earlier in the interview, when a 
small, soft voice just below his elbow said, 
quite plainly, and quite unmistakably — not 
in any squeak or whine that had to be trans- 
lated — but in downright common English — 

“ Buy me — do — please buy me ! ” 

Cyril started as though he had been pinched, 
and jumped a yard away from the hutch. 

“ Come back — oh, come back ! ” said the 
voice, rather louder but still softly ; “ stoop 
down and pretend to be tying up your boot- 
lace — I see it’s undone, as usual.” 

Cyril mechanically obeyed. He knelt on 
one knee on the dry, hot, dusty pavement, 
peered into the darkness of the hutch and 
found himself face to face with — the Psam- 
mead ! 

It seemed much thinner than when he had 
last seen it. It was dusty and dirty, and its 
fur was untidy and ragged. It had hunched 
itself up into a miserable lump, and its long 
snail’s eyes were drawn in quite tight so^that 
they hardly showed at all. 



HE FOUND HIMSELF FACE TO FACE WITH THE PSAMMEAD ! 



THE PSAMMEAD 


29 


“ Listen,” said the Psammead, in a voice 
that sounded as though it would begin to cry 
in a minute, “ I don’t think the creature who 
keeps this shop will ask a very high price 
for me. I’ve bitten him more than once, and 
I’ve made myself look as common as I can. 
He’s never had a glance from my beautiful, 
beautiful eyes. Tell the others I’m here — but 
tell them to look at some of those low, 
common beasts while I’m talking to you. 
The creature inside mustn’t think you care 
much about me, or he’ll put a price upon me 
far, far beyond your means. I remember in 
the dear old days last summer you never had 
much money. Oh — I never thought I should 
be so glad to see you — I never did.” It sniffed, 
and shot out its long snail’s eyes expressly to 
drop a tear well away from its fur. “ Tell the 
others I’m here, and then I’ll tell you exactly 
what to do about buying me.” 

Cyril tied his bootlace into a hard knot, 
stood up and addressed the others in firm 
tones — 

“Look here,” he said, “I’m not kidding — 
and I appeal to your honour,” an appeal 
which in this family was never made in vain. 
“ Don’t look at that hutch — look at the white 
rat. Now you are not to look at that hutch 
whatever I say.” 

He stood in front of it to prevent mistakes. 

“ Now get yourselves ready for a great sur- 
prise. In that hutch there’s an old friend of 
ours — clout look! — Yes; it’s the Psammead, 


30 


THE AMULET 


the good old Psammead ! it wants us to buy 
it. It says you’re not to look at it. Look 
at the white rat and count your money ! On 
your honour don’t look ! 

The others responded nobly. They looked 
at the white rat till they quite stared him out 
of countenance, so that he went and sat up on 
his hind legs in a far corner and hid his eyes 
with his front paws, and pretended he was 
washing his face. 

Cyril stooped again, busying himself with 
the other bootlace, and listened for the Psam- 
mead’s further instructions. 

“ Go in,” said the Psammead, “ and ask the 
price of lots of other things.” Then say, 
‘ What do you want for that monkey that’s 
lost its tail — the mangy old thing in the third 
hutch from the end.’ Oh — don’t mind my 
feelings — call me a mangy monkey — I’ve tried 
hard enough to look like one ! I don’t think 
he’ll put a high price on me — I’ve bitten him 
eleven times since I came here the day before 
yesterday. If he names a bigger price than 
you^ can afford, say you wish you had the 
money.” 

“ But you can’t give us wishes. I’ve promised 
never to have another wish from you,” said 
the bewildered Cyril. 

“ Don’t be a silly little idiot,” said the Sand 
Fairy in trembling but affectionate tones, 
“ but find out how much money you’ve got 
between you, and do exactly what I tell 
you.” 


THE PSAMMEAD 


31 


C^yril, pointing a stiff and unmeaning finger 
at the white rat, so as to pretend that its 
charms alone employed his tongue, explained 
matters to the others, while the Psammead 
hunched itself, and bunched itself, and did 
its very best to make itself look uninte- 
resting. 

Then the four children filed into the shop. 
“How much do you want for that white 
rat ? ” asked Cyril. 

“ Eightpence,” was the answer. 

“ And the guinea-pigs ? ” 

“ Eighteenpence to five bob, according to 
the breed.” - 

“ And the lizards ? ” 

“Ninepence each.’^ 

“ And toads ? ” 

“ Fourpence. Now look here,” said the 
greasy owner of all this caged life with a 
sudden ferocity which made the whole party 
back hurriedly on to the wainscotting of 
hutches with which the shop was lined. 
“ Lookee here. I ain’t agoin’ to have you 
a cornin’ in here a turnin’ the whole place 
outer winder, an’ prizing every animile in 
the stock just for your larks, so don’t think 
it ! If you’re a buyer, he a buyer — but I 
never had a customer yet as wanted to buy 
mice, and lizards, and toads, and guineas all 
at once. So hout you goes.” 

“ Oh I wait a minute,” said the wretched 
Cyril, feeling how foolishly yet well-mean- 
ingly he had carried out the Psammead’s 


32 


THE AMULET 


instructions. “Just tell me one thing. What 
do you want for the mangy old monkey in 
the third hutch from the end ? ” 

The shopman only saw in this a new insult. 

“ Mangy young monkey yourself,” said he ; 
“ get along with your blooming cheek. Hout 
you goes ! ” 

“ Oh ! don’t be so cross,” said Jane, losing 
her head altogether, “ don’t you see he really 
does want to know that ! ” 

“ Ho ! does ’e indeed ? ” sneered the mer- 
chant. Then he scratched his ear suspiciously, 
for he was a sharp business man, and he knew 
the ring of truth when he heard it. His hand 
was bandaged, and three minutes before he 
would have been glad to sell the “ mangy old 
monkey ” for ten shillings. Now — 

“ Ho ! ’e does, does ’e,” he said, “ then two 
pun ten’s my price. He’s not got his fellow 
that monkey ain’t, nor yet his match, not 
this side of the equator, which he comes 
from. And the only one ever seen in London. 
Ought to be in the Zoo. Two pun ten, down 
on the nail, or hout you goes ! ” 

The children looked at each other — twenty- 
three shillings and fivepence was all they had 
in the world, and it would have been merely 
three and fivepence, but for the sovereign 
which Father had given to them “ between 
them ” at parting. 

“We’ve only twenty-three shillings and 
fivepence,” said Cyril, rattling the money in 
his pocket. 


THE PSAMMEAD 


33 


“ Twenty-three farthings and somebody’s 
own cheek,” said the dealer, for he did not 
believe that Cyril had so much money. 

There was a miserable pause. Then Anthea 
remembered, and said — 

“ Oh ! I toish I had two pounds ten.” 

“So do I, Miss, I’m sure,” said the man with 
bitter politeness ; “ I wish you ’ad. I’m sure ! ” 

Anthea’s hand was on the counter, some- 
thing seemed to slide under it. She lifted it. 
There lay five bright half sovereigns. 

“ Why, I have got it after all,” she said ; 
“ here’s the . money, now let’s have the 
Sammy, . . . the monkey I mean.” 

The dealer looked hard at the money, but 
he made haste to put it in his pocket. 

“ I only hope you come by it honest,” he 
said, shrugging his shoulders. He scratched 
his ear again. 

“Well !” he said, “I suppose I must let you 
have it, but it’s worth thribble the money, so 
it is ” 

He slowly led the way out to the hutch — 
opened the door gingerly, and made a sud- 
den fierce grab at the Psammead, which the 
Psammead acknowledged in one last long 
lingering bite. 

“ Here, take the brute,” said the shopman, 
squeezing the Psammead so tight that he 
nearly choked it. “ It’s bit me to the marrow, 
it have.” 

The man’s eyes opened as Anthea held out 
her arms. “ Don’t blame me if it tears your 


34 


THE AMULET 


face off its bones,” he said, and the Psammead 
made a leap from his dirty horny hands, and 
Anthea caught it in hers, which were not 
very clean, certainly, but at any rate were 
soft and pink, and held it kindly and closely. 

“ But you can’t take it home like that,” 
Cyril said, “ we shall have a crowd after 
us,” and indeed two errand-boys and a 
policeman had already collected. 

“ I can’t give you nothink only a paper-bag, 
like what we puts the tortoises in,” said the 
man grudgingly. 

So the whole party went into the shop, and 
the shopman’s eyes nearly came out of his 
head when, having given Anthea the largest 
paper-bag he could find, he saw her hold it 
open, and the Psammead carefully creep 
into it. 

“Well!” he said, “if that there don’t beat 
cock-fighting ! But p’raps you’ve met the 
brute afore.” 

“ Yes,” said Cyril affably, “ he’s an old friend 
of ours.” 

“ If I’d a known that,” the man rejoined, 
“you shouldn’t n had him under twice the 
money. ’Owever,” he added, as the children 
disappeared, “ I ain’t done so bad, seeing as 
I only give five bob for the beast. But then 
there’s the bites to take into account !” 

The children, trembling in agitation and 
excitement, carried home the Psammead, 
trembling in its paper-bag. 

When they got it home, Anthea nursed it. 


THE PSAMMEAD 


35 


and stroked it, and would have cried over 
it, if she hadn’t remembered how it hated 
to be wet. 

When it recovered enough to speak, it said — 

“ Get me sand ; silver sand from the oil and 
colour shop. And get me plenty.” 

They got the sand, and they put it and the 
Psammead in the round bath together, and it 
rubbed itself, and rolled itself, and shook 
itself, and scraped itself, and scratched itself, 
and preened itself, till it felt clean and comfy, 
and then it scrabbled a hasty hole in the sand, 
and went to sleep in it. 

The children hid the bath under the girls’ 
bed, and had supper. Old Nurse had got 
them a lovely supper of bread and butter 
and fried onions. She was full of kind and 
delicate thoughts. 

When Anthea woke the next morning, the 
Psammead was snuggling down between her 
shoulder and Jane’s. 

“ You have saved my life,” it said, “ I know 
that man would have thrown cold water on 
me sooner or later, and then I should have 
died. I saw him wash out a guinea-pig’s 
hutch yesterday morning. I’m still fright- 
fully sleepy, I think I’ll go back to sand for 
another nap. Wake the boys and this door- 
mouse of a Jane, and when you’ve had your 
breakfasts we’ll have a talk.” 

“ Don’t you want any breakfast ? ” asked 
Anthea. 

“ I daresay I shall pick a bit presently,” it 


36 


THE AMULET 


said ; “ but sand is all I care about — it’s meat 
and drink to me, and coals and fire and wife 
and children.” With these words it clam- 
bered down by the bedclothes and scrambled 
back into the bath, where they heard it 
scratching itself out of sight. 

“Well!” said Anthea, “anyhow our 
holidays won’t be dull noiv. We’ve found 
the Psammead again.” 

“No,” said Jane, beginning to put on her 
stockings. “We shan’t be dull — but it’ll be 
only like having a pet dog now it can’t give 
us wishes.” 

“ Oh, don’t be so discontented,” said Anthea. 
“If it can’t do anything else it can tell us 
about Megatheriums and things.” 


CHAPTER II 

THE HALF AMULET 

Long ago — that is to say last summer — the 
children, finding themselves embarrassed by 
some wish which the Psammead had granted 
them, and which the servants had not re- 
ceived in a proper spirit, had wished that 
the servants might not notice the gifts 
which the Psammead gave. And when they 
parted from the Psammead their last wish 
had been that they should meet it again. 
Therefore they had met it (and it was jolly 
lucky for the Psammead, as Robert pointed 
out). Now, of course, you see that the 
Psammead’s, being where it was, was the 
consequence of one of their wishes, and 
therefore was a Psammead-wish, and as such 
could not be noticed by the servants. And it 
was soon plain that in the Psammead’s 
opinion old Nurse was still a servant, 
although she had now a house of her own, 
for she never noticed the Psammead at all. 
And that was as well, for she would never 

37 


38 


THE AMULET 


have consented to allow the girls to keep an 
animal and a hath of sand under their bed. 

When breakfast had been cleared away — it 
was a very nice breakfast with hot rolls to it, 
a luxury quite out of the common way — 
Anthea went and dragged out the bath, and 
woke the Psammead. It stretched and shook 
itself. 

“You must have bolted your breakfast 
most unwholesomely,” it said ; “ you can’t 

have been five minutes over it.” 

“We’ve been nearly an hour,” said iVnthea. 
“ Come — you know you promised.” 

“Now look here,” said the Psammead, 
sitting back on the sand and shooting out 
its long eyes suddenly, “ we’d better begin as 
we mean to go on. It won’t do to have 
any misunderstanding, so I tell you plainly 
that ” 

“ Oh, please , Anthea pleaded, “ do wait till 
we get to the others. They’ll think it most 
awfully sneakish of me to talk to you without 
them ; do come down, there’s a dear.” 

She knelt before the sand-bath and held 
out her arms. The Psammead must have 
remembered how glad it had been to jump 
into those same little arms, only the day 
before, for it gave a little grudging grunt, 
and jumped once more. 

Anthea wrapped it in her pinafore and 
carried it downstairs. It was welcomed in a 
thrilling silence. 

At last Anthea said, “ Now then ! ” 


THE HALF AMULET 


39 


“What place is this?” asked the Psammead, 
shooting its eyes out and turning them slowly 
round. 

“ It’s a sitting-room, of course,” said Robert. 

“ Then I don’t like it,” said the Psammead. 

“ Never mind,” said Anthea, kindly ; “ we’ll 
take you anywhere you like if you want us 
to. What was it you were going to say 
upstairs when I said the others wouldn’t like 
it if I stayed talking to you without them ? ” 

It looked keenly at her, and she blushed. 

“ Don’t be silly,” it said sharply. “ Of 
course, it’s quite natural that you should 
like your brothers and sisters to know 
exactly how good and unselfish you were.” 

“I wish you wouldn’t,” said Jane. “Anthea 
was quite right. What was it you were going 
to say when she stopped you ? ” 

“ I’ll tell you,” said the Psammead, “ since 
you’re so anxious to know. I was going to 
say this. You’ve saved my life —and I’m not 
ungrateful — but it doesn’t change your nature 
or mine. You’re still very ignorant, and 
rather silly, and I am worth a thousand of 
you any day of the week.” 

“Of course you are!” Anthea was beginning, 
but it interrupted her. 

“It’s very rude to interrupt,” it said; “what 
I mean is that I’m not going to stand any 
nonsense, and if you think what you’ve done 
is to give you the right to pet me or make me 
demean myself by playing with you, you’ll 
find out that what you think doesn’t matter 


40 


THE AMULET 


a single penny. See ? It’s what I think 
that matters.” 

“I know,” said Cyril, “it always was, if you 
remember.” 

“ Well,” said the Psammead, “ then that’s 
settled. We’re to be treated as we deserve. 
I with respect, and all of you with — hut I 
don’t wish to be offensive. Do you want me 
to tell you how I got into that horrible den 
you bought me out of ? Oh, I’m not ungrate- 
ful ! I haven’t forgotten it and I shan’t 
forget it.” 

“ Do tell us,” said Anthea. “ I know you’re 
awfully clever, but even with all your clever- 
ness, I don’t believe you can possibly know 
how — how respectfully we do respect you. 
Don’t we?” 

The others all said yes — and fidgetted in 
their chairs. Robert spoke the wishes of all 
when he said — 

“ I do wish you’d go on.” 

So it sat up on the green-covered table and 
went on. 

“ When you’d gone away,” it said, “ I went 
to sand for a bit, and slept. I was tired 
out with all your silly wishes, and I felt 
as though I hadn’t really been to sand for 
a year.” 

“To sand?” Jane repeated. 

“Where I sleep. You go to bed. I go to 
sand.” 

J ane yawned ; the mention of bed made her 
feel sleepy. 


THE HALF AMULET 


41 


“ All right,” said the Psammead, in offended 
tones. “ I’m sure I don’t want to tell you a 
long tale. A man caught me, and I bit him. 
And he put me in a bag with a dead hare 
and a dead rabbit. And he took me to his 
house and put me out of the bag into a 
basket with holes that I could see through. 
And I bit him again. And then he brought 
me to this city, which I am told is called the 
Modern Babylon — though it’s not a bit like 
the old Babylon — and he sold me to the man 
you bought me of, and then I bit them both. 
Now, what’s your news ? ” 

“ There’s not quite so much biting in our 
story,” said Cyril regretfully; “in fact, there 
isn’t any. Father’s gone to South Africa, and 
Mother and The Lamb have gone to Madeira 
because Mother was ill, and don’t I just wish 
that they were both safe home again.” 

Merely from habit, the Sand-fairy began 
to blow itself out, but it stopped short 
suddenly. 

“ I forgot,” it said ; “ I can’t give you any 
more wishes.” 

“No — but look here,” said Cyril, “couldn’t 
we call in old Nurse and get her to say she 
wishes they were safe home. I’m sure she 
does.” 

“No go,” said the Psammead. “It’s just 
the same as your wishing yourself if you get 
some one else to wish for you. It won’t act.” 

“ But it did yesterday — with the man in the 
shop,” said Robert. 


42 


THE AMULET 


“ Ah yes,” said the creature, but you didn’t 
ask him to wish, and you didn’t know what 
would happen if he did. That can’t be done 
again. It’s played out.” 

“ Then you can’t help us at all,” said J ane ; 
“ oh — I did think you could do something ! 
I’ve been thinking about it ever since we 
saved your life yesterday. I thought you’d 
be certain to be able to fetch back Father, 
even if you couldn’t manage Mother.” 

And Jane began to cry. 

“ Now dont,^' said the Psammead hastily ; 
“ you know how it always upsets me if you 
cry. I can’t feel safe a moment. Look here ; 
you must have some new kind of charm.” 

“ That’s easier said than done.” 

“ Not a bit of it,” said the creature ; “ there’s 
one of the strongest charms in the world not 
a stone’s throw from where you bought me 
yesterday. The man that I bit so — the first 
one, I mean — went into a shop to ask how 
much something cost — I think he said it was 
a concertina — and while he was telling the 
man in the shop how much too much he 
wanted for it, I saw the charm in a sort of 
tray, with a lot of other things. If you can 
only buy that, you will be able to have your 
heart’s desire.” 

The children looked at each other and 
then at the Psammead. Then Cyril coughed 
awkwardly and took sudden courage to say 
what every one was thinking. 

“I do hope you won’t be waxy,” he said ; 


THE HALF AMULET 


43 


“ but it’s like this : when you used to give us 
our wishes they almost always got us into 
some row or other, and we used to think you 
wouldn’t have been pleased if they hadn’t. 
Now, about this charm — we haven’t got over 
and above too much tin, and if we blue it all 
on this charm and it turns out to be not up 
to much — well — you see what I’m driving at, 
don’t you ? ” 

“I see that you don’t see more than the 
length of your nose, and that's not far,” said 
the Psammead crossly. “ Look here, I had 
to give you the wishes, and of course they 
turned out badly, in a sort of way, because 
you hadn’t the sense to wish for what was 
good for you. But this charm’s quite different. 
I haven’t got to do this for you, it’s just my 
own generous kindness that makes me tell 
you about it. So it’s bound to be all right. 
See ? ” 

“‘Don’t be cross,” said Anthea, “please, 
please don’t. You see, it’s all we’ve got ; we 
shan’t have any more pocket-money till daddy 
comes home — unless he sends us some in a 
letter. But we do trust you. And I say, all 
of you,” she went on, “ don’t you think it’s 
worth spending all the money, if there’s even 
the chanciest chance of getting Father and 
Mother back safe note? Just think of it! 
Oh, do let’s ! ” 

“ I don’t care what you do,” said the Psam- 
mead ; “ I’ll go back to sand again till you’ve 
made up your minds,” 


44 


THE AMULET 


“No, don’t!” said everybody; and Jane 
added, “We are quite mind-made-up— don’t 
you see we are? Let’s get our hats. Will 
you come with us ? ” 

“ Of course,” said the Psammead ; “ how else 
would you find the shop ? ” 

So everybody got its hat. The Psammead 
was put into a flat bass-bag that had come 
from Farringdon Market with two pounds 
of filleted plaice in it. Now it contained 
about three pounds and a quarter of solid 
Psammead, and the children took it in turns 
to carry it. 

“It’s not half the weight of The Lamb,” 
Robert said, and the girls sighed. 

The Psammead poked a wary eye oub of the 
top of the basket every now and then, and 
told the children which turnings to take. 

“How on earth do you know?” asked 
Robert. “ I can’t think how you do it.” 

And the Psammead said sharply, “ No — I 
don’t suppose you can.” 

At last they came to the shop. It had all 
sorts and kinds of things in the window — 
concertinas and silk handkerchiefs, china 
vases and tea-cups, blue Japanese jars, pipes, 
swords, pistols, lace collars, silver spoons tied 
up in half-dozens, and wedding-rings in a red 
lacquered basin. There were officers' epaulets 
and doctors’ lancets. There were tea-caddies 
inlaid with red turtle-shell and brass curly- 
wurlies, plates of different kinds of money, 
and stacks of difPerent kinds of plates. There 


THE HALF AMULET 


45 


was a beautiful picture of a little girl washing 
a dog, which Jane liked very much. And in 
the middle of the window there was a dirty 
silver tray full of mother-of-pearl card 
counters, old seals, pas^e buckles, snuff- 
boxes, and all sorts of little dingy odds and 
ends. 

The Psammead put its head quite out of 
the fish-basket to look in the window, when 
Cyril said — 

“ There’s a tray there with rubbish in it.” 

And then its long snail’s eyes saw something 
that made them stretch out so much that they 
were as long and thin as new slate-pencils. 
Its fur bristled thickly, and its voice was quite 
hoarse with excitement as it whispered — 

“ That’s it ! That’s it ! There, under that 
blue and yellow buckle, you can see a bit 
sticking out. It’s red. Do you see ? ” 

“ Is it that thing something like a horse- 
shoe?” asked Cyril. “And red, like the 
common sealing-wax you do up parcels 
with ? ” 

“ Yes, that’s it,” said the Psammead. “ Now, 
you do just as you did before. Ask the price 
of other things. That blue buckle would do. 
Then the man will get the tray out of the 
window. I think you’d better be the one,” it 
said to Anthea. “We’ll wait out here.” 

So the others fiattened their noses against 
the shop Avindow, and i)resently a large, dirty, 
short-fingered hand Avith a A^ery big diamond 
ring came stretching through the green half- 


46 


THE AMULET 


curtains at the back of the shop window and 
took away the tray. 

They could not see what was happening 
in the interview between A ntliea and the 
Diamond Ring, and it seemed to them that 
she had had time — if she had had money — 
to buy everything in the shop before the 
moment came when she stood before them, 
her face wreathed in grins, as Cyril said later, 
and in her hand the charm. 

It was something like this — 



and it was made of a red, smooth, softly shiny 
stone. 

“ I’ve got it,” Anthea whispered, just open- 
ing her hand to give the others a glimpse of 


THE HALF AMULET 


47 


it. “Do let’s get home. We can’t stand here 
like stuck-pigs looking at it in the street.” 

So home they went. The parlour in Fitzroy 
Street was a very fiat background to magic 
happenings. Down in the country among the 
flowers and green fields anything had seemed 
— and indeed had been — possible. But it was 
hard to believe that anything really wonderful 
could happen so near the Tottenham Court 
Road. But the Psammead was there — and it 
in itself was wonderful. And it could talk — 
and it had shown them where a charm could 
be bought that would make the owner of it 
perfectly happy. So the four children hurried 
home, taking very long steps, with their chins 
stuck out, and their mouths shut very tight 
indeed. They went so fast that the Psammead 
was quite shaken about in its fish-bag, but it 
did not say anything — perhaps for fear of 
attracting public notice. 

They got home at last, very hot indeed, and 
set the Psammead on the green tablecloth. 

“ Now then ! ” said Cyril. 

But the Psammead had to have a plate of 
sand fetched for it, for it was quite faint. 
When it had refreshed itself a little it said — 

“ Now then ! Let me see the charm,” and 
Anthea laid it on the green table-cover. The 
Psammead shot out his long eyes to look at it, 
then it turned them reproachfully on Anthea 
and said — 

“ But there’s only half of it here ! ” 

This was indeed a blow. 




THE HALF AMULET 


49 


“ It was all there was,” said Antliea, with 
timid firmness. She knew it was not her 
fault. 

“ There should be another piece,” said the 
Psammead, “and a sort of pin to fasten the 
two together.” 

“Isn’t half any good?” — “Won’t it work 
without the other bit?” — “It cost seven-and- 
six.” — “ Oh, bother, bother, bother ! ” — “ Don’t 
be silly little idiots ! ” said every one and the 
Psammead altogether. 

Then there was a wretched silence. Cyril 
broke it — 

“ What shall we do ? ” 

“ Go back to the shop and see if they haven’t 
got the other half,” said the Psammead. “ I’ll 
go to sand till you come back. Cheer up ! 
Even the bit you’ve got is some good, but it’ll 
be no end of a bother if you can’t find the 
other.” 

So Cyril went to the shop. And the Psam- 
mead to sand. And the other three went 
to dinner, which was now ready. And old 
Nurse was very cross that Cyril was not 
ready too. 

The three were watching at the windows 
when Cyril returned, and even before he was 
near enough for them to see • his face there 
was something about the slouch of his shoul- 
ders and the set of his knickerbockers and 
the way he dragged his boots along that 
showed but too plainly that his errand had 
been vain. 


4 


50 


THE AMULET 


“Well?” they all said, hoping against hope 
on the front-door step. 

“ No go,” Cyril answered ; “ the man said the 
thing was perfect. He said it was a Roman 
lady’s locket, and people shouldn’t buy curios 
if they didn’t know anything about arky — 
something or other, and that he never went 
back on a bargain, because it wasn’t business, 
and he expected his customers to act the same. 
He was simply nasty— that’s what he was, and 
I want my dinner.” 

It was plain that Cyril was not pleased. 

The unlikeliness of anything really interest- 
ing happening in that parlour lay like a 
weight of lead on every one’s spirits. Cyril 
had his dinner, and just as he was swallowing 
the last mouthful of apple-pudding there was 
a scratch at the door. Anthea opened it and in 
walked the Psammead. 

“ Well,” it said, when it had heard the news, 
“ things might be worse. Only you won’t be 
surprised if you have a few adventures before 
you get the other half. You want to get it, of 
course.” 

“ Rather,” was the general reply. “ And we 
don’t mind adventures.” 

“No,” said the Psammead, “I seem to re- 
member that about you. Well, sit down and 
listen with all your ears. Eight, are there ? 
Right — I am glad you know arithmetic. Now, 
pay attention, because I don’t intend to tell 
you everything twice over.” 

As the children settled themselves on the 


THE HALF AMULET 


51 


floor — it was far more comfortable than the 
chairs, as well as more polite to the Psammead, 
who was stroking its whiskers on the hearth- 
rug — a sudden cold pain caught at Anthea’s 
heart. Father — Mother — the darling Lamb — 
all far away. Then a warm, comfortable feel- 
ing flowed through her. The Psammead was 
here, and at least half a charm, and there 
were to be adventures. (If you don’t know 
what a cold pain is, I am glad for your sakes, 
and I hope you never may.) 

“Now,” said the Psammead cheerily, “you 
are not particularly nice, nor particularly 
clever, and you’re not at all good-looking. 
Still, you’ve saved my life — oh, when I think 
of that man and his pail of water ! — so I’ll tell 
you all I know. At least, of course I can’t do 
that, because I know far too much. But I’ll 
tell you all I know about this red thing.” 

“ Do ! Do ! Do ! Do ! ” said every one. 

“ Well, then,” said the Psammead. “ This 
thing is half of an amulet that can do all sorts 
of things ; it can make the corn grow, and the 
waters flow, and the trees bear fruit, and the 
little new beautiful babies come. (Not that 
babies are beautiful, of course,” it broke off to 
say, “ but their mothers think they are — and as 
long as you think a thing’s true it is true 
as far as you’re concerned.”) 

Robert yawned. 

The Psammead went on. 

“ The complete Amulet can keep off all the 
things that make people unhappy — jealousy, 


52 


THE AMULET 


bad temper, pride, disagreeableness, greediness, 
selfishness, laziness. Evil spirits, people called 
them when the Amulet was made. Don’t you 
think it would be nice to have it? ” 

“Very,” said the children, quite without 
enthusiasm. 

“ And it can give you strength and courage.” 

“ That’s better,” said Cyril. 

“ And virtue.” 

“ I suppose it’s nice to have that,” said Jane, 
but not with much interest. 

“ And it can give you your heart’s desire.” 

“ Now you’re talking,” said Robert. 

“Of course T am,” retorted the Psammead 
tartly, “ so there’s no need for you to.” 

“ Heart’s desire ’s good enough for me,” 
said Cyril. 

“ Yes, but,” Anthea ventured, “ all that’s 
what the whole charm can do. There’s some- 
thing that the half we’ve got can win off its 
own bat — isn’t there ? ” She appealed to the 
Psammead. It nodded. 

“Yes,” it said; “the half has the power to 
take you anywhere you like to look for the 
other half.” 

This seemed a brilliant prospect till Robert 
asked — 

“ Does it know where to look ? ” 

The Psammead shook its head and answered, 

“ I don’t think it’s likely.” 

“ Do you ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Then,” said Robert, “ we might as well 


THE HALF AMULET 


53 


look for a needle in a bottle of hay. Yes — 
it is bottle, and not bundle, Father said so.” 

“Not at all,” said the Psammead briskly; 
“you think you know everything, but you are 
quite mistaken. The first thing is to get the 
thing to talk.” 

“ Can it ? ” Jane questioned. Jane’s 
question did not mean that she thought it 
couldn’t, for in spite of the parlour furniture 
the feeling of magic was growing deeper and 
thicker, and seemed to fill the room like a 
dream of a scented fog. 

“ Of course it can. I suppose you can 
read.” 

“ Oh yes ! ” Every one was rather hurt at 
the question. 

“Well, then — all you’ve got to do is to read 
the name that’s written on the part of the 
charm that you’ve got. And as soon as you 
say the name out loud the thing will have 
power to do — well, several things.” 

There was a silence. The red charm was 
passed from hand to hand. 

“ There’s no name on it,” said Cyril at last. 

“ Nonsense,” said the Psammead ; “ what’s 


that ? 


“Oh, that!'' said Cyril, “it’s not reading. 
It looks like pictures of chickens and snakes 
and things.” 

This was what was on the charm — ■ 



54 


THE AMULET 


“ I’ve no patience with you,” said the 
Psammead ; “ if you can’t read you must find 
some one who can. A priest now ? ” 

“We don’t know any priests,” said Anthea ; 
“ we know a clergyman — he’s called a priest 
in the prayer-book, you know — but he only 
knows Greek and Latin and Hebrew, and this 
isn’t either of those — 1 know.” 

The Psammead stamped a furry foot 
angrily. 

“I wish I’d never seen you,” it said ; “you 
aren’t any more good than so many stone 
images. Not so much, if I’m to tell the truth. 
Is there no wise man in your Babylon who 
can pronounce the names of the Great 
Ones.” 

“ There’s the poor learned gentleman 
upstairs,” said Anthea, “ we might try him. 
He has a lot of stone images in his room, and 
iron-looking ones too — we peeped in once 
when he was out. Old Nurse says he doesn’t 
eat enough to keep a canary alive. He spends 
it all on stones and things.” 

“ Try him,” said the Psammead, “ only be 
careful. If he knows a greater name than 
this and uses it against you, your charm will 
be of no use. Bind him first with the chains 
of honour and upright dealing. And then 
ask his aid— oh, yes, you’d better all go; you 
can put me to sand as you go upstairs. I 
must have a few minutes’ peace and 
quietness.” 

So the four children hastily washed their 


THE HALF AMULET 


55 


hands and brushed their hair — this was 
Anthea’s idea — and went up to knock at the 
door of the “ poor learned gentleman,” and 
to “ bind him with the chains of honour and 
upright dealing.” 


CHAPTER III 


THE PAST 

The learned gentleman had let liis dinner get 
quite cold. It was a mutton chop, and as it 
lay on the plate it looked like a brown island 
in the middle of a frozen pond, because the 
grease of the gravy had become cold, and 
consequently white. It looked very nasty, 
and it was the first thing the children saw 
when, after knocking three times and re- 
ceiving no reply, one of them ventured to 
turn the handle and softly to open the door. 
The chop was on the end of a long table that 
ran down one side of the room. The table 
had images on it and queer-shaped stones, 
and books. And there were glass cases fixed 
against the wall behind, with little strange 
things in them. The cases were rather like 
the ones you see in jewellers’ shops. 

The “poor learned gentleman” was sitting at 
a table in the window, looking at something 
very small which he held in a pair of fine 
pincers. He had a round spy-glass sort of 
thing in one eye — which reminded the 

56 


THE PAST 


57 


children of watchmakers, and also of the 
long snail’s eyes of the Psammead. 

The gentleman was very long and thin, and 
his long, thin boots stuck out under the other 
side of his table. He did not hear the door 
open, and the children stood hesitating. At 
last Robert gave the door a push, and they 
all startled back, for in the middle of the wall 
that the door had hidden was a mummy-case 
— very, very, very big — painted in red and 
yellow and green and black, and the face of 
it seemed to look at them quite angrily. 

You know what a mummy-case is like, of 
course ? If you don’t you had better go to the 
British Museum at once and find out. Any 
way, it is not at all the sort of thing that you 
expect to meet in a top-floor front in Blooms- 
bury, looking as though it would like to 
know what business you had there. 

So every one said, “ Oh ! ” rather loud, and 
their boots clattered as they stumbled back. 

The learned gentleman took the glass out 
of his eye and said — 

“ I beg your pardon,” in a very soft, quiet 
pleasant voice — the voice of a gentleman who 
has been to Oxford. 

“ It’s us that beg yours,’ said Cyril politely. 
“We are so sorry to disturb you.” 

“ Come in,” said the gentleman, rising — with 
the most distinguished courtesy, Anthea told 
herself. “I am delighted to see you. Won’t 
you sit down ? No, not there ; allow me to 
move that papyrus.” 



IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WALL WAS A MUMMY-CASE 


THE PAST 


59 


He cleared a chair, and stood smiling and 
looking kindly through his large, round 
spectacles. 

“ He treats us like grown-ups,” whispered 
Robert, “and he doesn’t seem to know how 
many of us there are.” 

“ Hush,” said Anthea, “ it isn’t manners to 
whisper. You say, Cyril — go ahead.” 

“ We’re very sorry to disturb you,” said 
Cyril politely, “ but we did knock three times, 
and you didn’t say ‘ Come in,’ or ‘ Run away 
now,’ or that you couldn’t be bothered just 
now, or to come when you weren’t so busy, 
or any of the things people do say when you 
knock at door's, so we opened it. We knew 
you were in because we heard you sneeze 
while we were waiting.” 

“ Not at all,” said the gentleman ; “ do sit 
down.” 

“ He has found out there are four of us,” 
said Robert, as the gentleman cleared three 
more chairs. He put the things off them 
carefully on the floor. The first chair had 
things like bricks that tiny, tiny birds’ feet 
have walked over when the bricks were soft, 
only the marks were in regular lines. The 
second chair had round things on it like very 
large, fat, long, pale beads. And the last 
chair had a pile of dusty papers on it. 

The children sat down. 

“We know you are very, very learned,” said 
Cyril, “and we have got a charm, and we 
want you to read the name on it, because it 


60 


THE AMULET 


isn’t in Latin, or Greek, or Hebrew, or any of 
the languages we know ” 

“ A thorough knowledge of even those lan- 
guages is a very fair foundation on which 
to build an education,” said the gentleman 
politely. 

“ Oh ! ” said Cyril, blushing, “ but we only 
know them to look at, except Latin — and 
I’m only in Caesar with that.” 

The gentleman took off his spectacles and 
laughed. His laugh sounded rusty, Cyril 
thought, as though it wasn’t often used. 

“Of course!” he said. “I’m sure I beg 
your pardon. I think I must have been in 
a dream. You are the children who live 
downstairs, are you not? Yes. I have seen 
you as I have passed in and out. And you 
have found something that you think to be 
an antiquity, and you’ve brought it to show 
me? That was very kind. I should like to 
inspect it.” 

“I’m afraid we didn’t think about your 
liking to inspect it,” said the truthful Anthea. 
“ It was just for us — because we wanted to 
know the name on it ” 

“ Oh, yes — and, I say,” Robert interjected, 
“ you won’t think it rude of us if we ask you 
first, before we show it, to be bound in the 

what-do-you-call-it of ” 

In the bonds of honour and upright deal- 
ing,” said Anthea. 

“ I’m afraid I don’t quite follow you,” said 
the gentleman, with gentle nervousness. 


THE PAST 


61 


“Well, it’s this way,” said Cyril. “We’ve 
got part of a charm. And the Sammy — I 
mean, something told us it Avould work, 
though it’s only half a one ; but it won’t work 
unless we can say the name that’s on it. But, 
of course, if you’ve got another name that can 
lick ours, our charm will be no go ; so we 
want you to give us your word of honour as a 
gentleman — though I’m sure, now I’ve seen 
you, that it’s not necessary ; but still I’ve 
promised to ask you, so we must. Will you 
please give us your honourable word not to 
say any name stronger than the name on our 
charm ? ” 

The gentleman had put on his spectacles 
I again and was looking at Cyril through them. 

He now said : “ Bless me ! ” more than once, 

, adding, “ Who told you all this ? ” 

“ I can’t tell you,” said Cyril. “ I’m very 
sorry, but I can’t.” 

Some faint memory of a far-off childhood 
must have come to the learned gentleman just 
then, for he smiled. 

“ I see,” he said. “ It is some sort of 
game that you are engaged in ? Of course ! 
Yes ! Well, I will certainly promise. Yet 
I wonder how you heard of the names of 
power? ” 

“We can’t tell you that either,” said Cyril ; 
and Anthea said, “ Here is our charm,” and 
j held it out. 

t With politeness, but without interest, the 
I gentleman took it. But after the first glance 


62 


THE AMULET 


all his body suddenly stiffened, as a pointer’s 
does when he sees a partridge. 

“Excuse me,” he said in quite a changed 
voice, and carried the charm to the win- 
dow. 

He looked at it ; he turned it over. He 
fixed his spy-glass in his eye and looked again. 
No one said anything. Only Robert made a 
shuffling noise with his feet till Anthea nudged 
him to shut up. 

At last the learned gentleman drew a long 
breath. 

“Where did you find this ? ” he asked. 

“We didn’t find it. We bought it at a 
shoj). Jacob iVbsalom the name is — not far 
from Charing Cross,” said Cyril. 

“We gave seven-and-sixpence for it,” added 
Jane. 

“ It is not for sale, I suppose ? You do not 
wish to part with it? I ought to tell you 
that it is extremely valuable — extraordinarily 
valuable, I may say.” 

“ Yes,” said Cyril, “ we know that, so of 
course we want to keep it.” 

“ Keep it carefully, then,” said the gentleman 
impressively ; “ and if ever you should wish to 
part with it, may I ask you to give me the 
refusal of it?” 

“ The refusal? ” 

“ I mean, do not sell it to any one else 
until you have given me the opportunity of 
buying it.” 

“ All right,” said Cyril, “ we won’t. But we 



HE FIXED HIS SPY-GLASS IN HIS EYE AND LOOKED AGAIN. 



64 


THE AMULET 


don’t want to sell it. We want to make it do 
things.” 

“ I suppose you can play at that as well as 
at anything else,” said the gentleman ; “ but 
I’m afraid the days of magic are over.” 

“ They aren’t really,'' said Anthea earnestly. 
“ You’d see they aren’t if I could tell you about 
our last summer holidays. Only I mustn’t. 
Thank you very much. And can you read the 
name ? ” 

“ Yes, I can read it.” 

“Will you tell it us ? ” 

“ The name,” said the gentleman, “ is Ur 
Hekau Setcheh.” 

“ Ur Hekau Setcheh,” repeated Cyril. 
“ Thanks awfully. I do hope we haven’t 
taken up too much of your time.” 

“ Not at all,” said the gentleman. “ And do 
let me entreat you to be very, very careful of 
that most valuable specimen.” 

They said “Thank you” in all the different 
polite ways they could think of, and filed out 
of the door and down the stairs. Anthea was 
last. Half-way down to the first landing she 
turned and ran up again. 

The door was still open, and the learned 
gentleman and the mummy-case were 
standing opposite to each other, and both 
looked as though they had stood like that 
for years. 

The gentleman started when Anthea put 
her hand on his arm. 

“ I hope you won’t be cross and say it’s not 


THE PAST 


65 


my business, ’ she said, “ but do look at your 
chop ! Don’t you think you ought to eat it ? 
Father forgets his dinner sometimes when 
he s writing, and Mother always says I ought 
to remind him if she’s not at home to do it 
herself, because it’s so bad to miss your regular 
j meals. So I thought perhaps you wouldn’t 
/ mind my reminding you, because you don’t 
^ seem to have any one else to do it.” 

She glanced at the mummy-case ; it certainly 
did not look as though it would ever think of 
reminding people of their meals. 

; The learned gentleman looked at her for a 
) moment before he said — 

“ Thank you, my dear. It was a kindly 
thought. No, I haven’t any one to remind 
me about things like that.” 

He sighed, and looked at the chop. 

“ It looks very nasty,” said Anthea. 

, “ Yes,” he said, “ it does. I’ll eat it immedi- 

V ately, before I forget.” 

As he ate it he sighed more than once. 
Perhaps because the chop was nasty, perhaps 
because he longed for the charm which the 
children did not want to sell, perhaps because 
it was so long since any one had cared whether 
he ate his chops or forgot them. 

Anthea caught the others at the stair-foot. 
They woke the Psammead, and it taught 
them exactly how to use the word of 
power, and to make the charm speak. I 
am not going to tell you how this is done, 

. because you might try to do it. And for 

5 


66 


THE AMULET 


you any such trying would be almost sure 
to end in disappointment. Because in the 
first place it is a thousand million to one 
against your ever getting hold of the right 
sort of charm, and if you did, there would 
be hardly any chance at all of your finding 
a learned gentleman clever enough and kind 
enough to read the word for you. 

The children and the Psammead crouched 
in a circle on the floor — in the girls’ bedroom, 
because in the parlour they might have been 
interrupted by old Nurse’s coming in to lay 
the cloth for tea — and the charm was put in 
the middle of the circle. 

The sun shone splendidly outside, and the 
room was very light. Through the open 
window came the hum and rattle of London, 
and in the street below they could hear the 
voice of the milkman. 

When all was ready, the Psammead signed 
to Anthea to say the word. And she said it. 

Instantly the whole light of all the 
world seemed to go out. The room was 
dark. The world outside was dark — darker 
than the darkest night that ever was. 
And all the sounds went out too, so 
that there was a silence deeper than any 
silence you have ever even dreamed of 
imagining. It was like being suddenly deaf 
and blind, only darker and quieter even than 
that. 

But before the children had got over the 
sudden shock of it enough to be frightened. 


THE PAST 


67 


a faint, beautiful light began to show in the 
middle of the circle, and at the same moment 
a faint, beautiful voice began to speak. The 
light was too small for one to see anything 
by, and the voice was too small for you to 
hear what it said. You could just see the 
light and just hear the voice. 

But the light grew stronger. It was greeny, 
like glow-worms’ lamps, and it grew and grew 
till it was as though thousands and thousands 
of glow-worms were signalling to their winged 
sweethearts from the middle of the circle. 
And the voice grew, not so much in loudness 
as in sweetness (though it grew louder, too), 
till it was so sweet that you wanted to cry 
with pleasure just at the sound of it. It was 
like nightingales, and the sea, and the fiddle, 
and the voice of your mother when you have 
been a long time away, and she meets you at 
the door when you get home. 

And the voice said — 

“ Speak. What is it that you would hear ?” 

I cannot tell you what language the voice 
used. I only know that every one present 
understood it perfectly. If you come to 
think of it, there must be some language 
that every one could understand, if we only 
knew what it was. Nor can I tell you how 
the charm spoke, nor whether it was the 
charm that spoke, or some presence in the 
charm. The children could not have told 
you either. Indeed, they could not look at 
the charm while it was speaking, because 


68 


THE AMULET 


the light was too bright. They looked in- 
stead at the green radiance on the faded 
Kidderminster carpet at the edge of the 
circle. They all felt very quiet, and not 
inclined to ask questions or fidget with 
their feet. For this was not like the things 
that had happened in the country when the 
Psammead had given them their wishes. 
That had been funny somehow, and this 
was not. It was something like Arabian 
Nights magic, and something like being in 
church. No one cared to speak. 

It was Cyril who said at last — 

“ Please we want to know where the other 
half of the charm is.” 

“ The part of the Amulet which is lost,” said 
the beautiful voice, “was broken and ground 
into the dust of the shrine that held it. It 
and the pin that joined the two halves are 
themselves dust, and the dust is scattered 
over many lands and sunk in many seas.” 

“ Oh, I say ! ” murmured Robert, and a 
blank silence fell. 

“ Then it’s all up ? ” said Cyril at last ; “ it’s 
no use our looking for a thing that’s smashed 
into dust, and the dust scattered all over the 
place.” 

“ If you would find it,” said the voice, “ you 
must seek it where it still is, perfect as ever.” 

“ I don’t understand,” said Cyril. 

“ In the Past you may find it,” said the 
voice. 

“ I wish we may find it,” said Cyril. 


THE PAST 


69 


The Psammead whispered crossly, “ Don’t 
you understand? The thing existed in the 
Past. If you were in the Past, too, you could 
find it. It’s very difficult to make you under- 
stand things. Time and space are only forms 
of thought.” 

“ I see,” said Cyril. 

“ No, you don’t,” said the Psammead, “ and 
it doesn’t matter if you don’t, either. What I 
mean is that if you were only made the right 
way, you could see everything happening in 
the same place at the same time. Now do 
you see ? ” 

“ I’m afraid / don’t,” said Anthea ; “ I’m 
sorry I’m so stupid.” 

“ Well, at any rate you see this. That 
lost half of the Amulet is in the Past. 
Therefore it’s in the Past we must look for 
it. I mustn’t speak to the charm myself. 
Ask it things? Find out!” 

“ Where can we find the other part of you?” 
asked Cyril obediently. 

“ In the Past,” said the voice. 

“ What part of the Past ? ” 

“ I may not tell you. If you will choose a 
time, I will take you to the place that then 
held it. You yourselves must find it.” 

“ When did you see it last ? ” asked Anthea — 
“ I mean, when was it taken away from you?” 

The beautiful voice answered — 

“ That was thousands of years ago. The 
Amulet was perfect then, and lay in a 
shrine, the last of many shrines, and I 


70 


THE AMULET 


worked wonders. Then came strange men 
with strange weapons and destroyed my 
shrine, and the Amulet they bore away 
with many captives. But of these, one, my 
priest, knew the word of power, and spoke 
it for me, so that the Amulet became in- 
visible, and thus returned to my shrine, but 
the shrine was broken down, and ere any 
magic could rebuild it, one spoke a word 
before which my power bowed down and 
was still. And the Amulet lay there, still 
perfect, but enslaved. Then one coming 
with stones to rebuild the shrine, dropped 
a hewn stone on the Amulet as it lay, and 
one half was sundered from the other. I 
had no power to seek for that which was 
lost. And there being none to speak the 
word of power, I could not rejoin it. So 
the Amulet lay in the dust of the desert 
many thousand years, and at last came a 
small man, a conqueror with an army, and 
after him a crowd of men who sought to 
seem wise, and one of these found half the 
Amulet and brought it to this land. But 
none could read the name. So I lay still. 
And this man dying and his son after him, 
the Amulet was sold by those who came 
after to a merchant, and from him you 
bought it, and it is here, and now, the name 
of power having been spoken, I also am 
here.” 

This is what the voice said. f think it 
must have meant Napoleon by the small 


THE PAST 


71 


inan, the conqueror. Because I know I 
have been told that he took an army to 
Egyplj that afterwards a lot of wise 

people went grubbing in the sand, and 
fished up all sorts of wonderful things, 
older than you would think possible. And 
of these I believe this charm to have been 
one, and the most wonderful one of all. 

Every one listened : and every one tried to 
think. It is not easy to do this clearly when 
you have been listening to the kind of talk 
I have told you about. 

At last Robert said — 

“ Can you take us into the Past — to the 
shrine where you and the other thing were 
together. If you could take us there, we 
might find the other part still there after all 
these thousands of years.” 

“ Still there ? silly ! ” said Cyril. “ Don’t 
you see, if we get back into the Past it won’t 
be thousands of years ago. It will be now 
for us — won’t it?” He appealed to the Psam- 
mead, who said — 

“ You’re not so far off the idea as you 
usually are ! ” 

“ Well,” said Anthea, “ will you take us 
back to when there was a shrine and you 
were safe in it — all of you?” 

“ Yes,” said the voice. “ You must hold me 
up, and speak the word of power, and one 
by one, beginning with the first-born, you 
shall pass through me into the Past. But 
let the last that passes be the one that holds 


72 


THE AMULET 


me, and let him not loose his hold, lest you lose 
me, and so remain in the Past for ever.” 

“ That’s a nasty idea,” said Robert. 

“ When you desire to return,” the beautiful 
voice went on, “ hold me up towards the 
East, and speak the word. Then, passing 
through me, you shall return to this time 
and it shall be the present to you.” 

“ But how ” 

A bell rang loudly. 

“Oh crikey!” exclaimed Robert, “that’s 
tea ! Will you please make it proper daylight 
again so that we can go down. And thank 
you so much for all your kindness.” 

“ We’ve enjoyed ourselves very much indeed, 
thank you ! ” added Anthea politely. 

The beautiful light faded slowly. The great 
darkness and silence came and these suddenly 
changed to the dazzlement of day and the 
great soft, rustling sound of London, that is 
like some vast beast turning over in its sleep. 

The children rubbed their eyes, the Psam- 
mead ran quickly to its sandy bath, and the 
others went down to tea. And until the cups 
were actually filled tea seemed less real than 
the beautiful voice and the greeny light. 

After tea Anthea persuaded the others to 
allow her to hang the charm round her neck 
with a piece of string. 

“ It would be so awful if it got lost,” she 
said ; “ it might get lost anywhere, you know, 
and it would be rather beastly for us to have 
to stay in the Past for ever and ever, 
wouldn’t it?” 


CHAPTER lY 


EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS AGO 

Next morning Anthea got old Nurse to allow 
her to take up the “poor learned gentleman’s” 
breakfast. He did not recognise her at first, 
but when he did he was vaguely pleased to 
see her. 

“You see I’m wearing the charm round my 
neck,” she said ; “ I’m taking care of it — like 
you told us to.” 

“ That’s right,” said he ; “ did you have a 
good game last night ? ” 

“You will eat your breakfast before it’s 
cold, won’t you?” said Anthea. “Yes, we had 
a splendid time. The charm made it all dark, 
and then greeny light, and then it spoke. 
Oh ! I wish you could have heard it — it was 
such a darling voice — and it told us the other 
half of it was lost in the Past, so of course we 
shall have to look for it there ! ” 

The learned gentleman rubbed his hair 
with both hands and looked anxiously at 
Anthea. 

“ I suppose it’s natural — youthful imagiha- 


74 


THE AMULET 


tion and so forth,” he said. “Yet some one 
must have . . . Who told you that some part 
of the charm was missing ? ” 

“I can’t tell you,” she said. “I know it 
seems most awfully rude, especially after you 
being so kind about telling us the name of 
power, and all that, but really, I’m not 
allowed to tell anybody anything about the 

— the the person who told me. You won’t 

forget your breakfast, will you ? ” 

The learned gentleman smiled feebly and 
then frowned — not a cross-frown, but a 
puzzle-frown. 

“ Thank you,” he said, “ I shall always be 
pleased if you’ll look in — any time you’re 
passing, you know — at least. ...” 

“ I will,” said she ; “ goodbye. I’ll always 
tell you anything I may tell.” 

He had not had many adventures with 
children in them, and he wondered whether 
all children were like these. He spent quite 
five minutes in wondering before he settled 
down to the fifty-second chapter of his great 
book on “ The Secret Rites of the Priests of 
Amen RA” 

It is no use to pretend that the children 
did not feel a good deal of agitation at the 
thought of going through the charm into the 
Past. That idea, that perhaps they might 
stay in the Past and never get back again, was 
anything but pleasing. Yet no one would 
have dared to suggest that the charni should 


EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS AGO 75 


not be used ; and though each was in its heart 
very frightened indeed, they would all have 
joined in jeering at the cowardice of any one 
of them who should have uttered the timid 
but natural suggestion, “ Don’t let’s ! ” 

It seemed necessary to make arrangements 
for being out all day, for there was no reason 
to suppose that the sound of the dinner-bell 
would be able to reach back into the Past, 
and it seemed unwise to excite old Nurse’s 
curiosity when nothing they could say — not 
even the truth — could in any way satisfy it. 
They were all very proud to think how well 
they had understood what the charm and the 
Psammead had said about Time and Space 
and things like that, and they were perfectly 
certain that it would be quite impossible to 
make old Nurse understand a single word of 
it. So they merely asked her to let them 
take their dinner out into the Regent’s Park 
— and this, with the implied cold mutton and 
tomatoes, was readily granted. 

“ You can get yourselves some buns or 
sponge-cakes, or whatever you fancy-like,” 
said old Nurse, giving Cyril a shilling. “ Don’t 
go getting jam-tarts, now — so messy at the 
best of times, and without forks and plates 
ruination to your clothes, besides your not 
being able to wash your hands and faces 
afterwards.” 

So Cyril took the shilling, and they all 
started off. They went round by the Totten- 
ham Court Road to buy a piece of waterproof 


76 


THE AMULET 


sheeting to put over the Psammead in case it 
should be raining in the Past when they got 
there. For it is almost certain death to a 
Psammead to get wet. 

The sun was shining very brightly, and 
even London looked pretty. Women were 
selling roses from big baskets-full, and Anthea 
bought four roses, one each, for herself and 
the others. They were red roses and smelt of 
summer — the kind of roses you always want 
so desperately at about Christmas-time when 
you can only get mistletoe, which is pale 
right through to its very scent, and holly 
which pricks your nose if you try to smell it. 
So now every one had a rose in its buttonhole, 
and soon every one was sitting on the grass 
in Regent’s Park under trees whose leaves 
would have been clean, clear green in the 
country, but here were dusty and yellowish, 
and brown at the edges. 

“We’ve got to go on with it,” said Anthea, 
“ and as the eldest has to go first, you’ll have 
to be last, Jane. You quite understand about 
holding on to the charm as you go through, 
don’t you. Pussy ? ” 

“ I wish I hadn’t got to be last,” said 
Jane. 

“You shall carry the Psammead if you 
like,” said Anthea. “ That is,” she added, 
remembering the beast’s queer temper, “if 
it’ll let you.” 

The Psammead, however, was unexpectedly 
amiable. 


EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS AGO 77 


“ I don’t mind,” it said, “ who carries me, so 
long as it doesn’t drop me. I can’t bear being 
dropped.” 

Jane with trembling hands took the Psam- 
mead and its fish-basket under one arm. The 
charm’s long string was hung round her neck. 
Then they all stood up. Jane held out the 
charm at arm’s length, and Cyril solemnly 
pronounced the word of power. 

As he spoke it the charm grew tall and 
broad, and he saw that Jane w^as just holding 
on to the edge of a great red arch of very 
curious shape. The opening of the arch was 
small, but Cyril saw that he could go through 
it. All round and beyond the arch were the 
faded trees and trampled grass of the Regent’s 
Park, where the little ragged children were 
playing Ring o’ Roses. But through the open- 
ing of it shone a blaze of blue and yellow 
and red. Cyril drew a long breath and stiff- 
ened his legs so that the others should not 
see that his knees were trembling and almost 
knocking together. “ Here goes ! ” he said, 
and, stepping up through the arch, disap- 
peared. Then followed Anthea. Robert, 
coming next, held fast, at Anthea’s sugges- 
tion, to the sleeve of Jane, who was thus 
dragged safely through the arch. And as 
soon as they were on the other side of the 
arch there was no more arch at all and no 
more Regent’s Park either, only the charm in 
Jane’s hand, and it was its proper size again. 
They were now in a light so bright that they 



THE OPENING OF THE ARCH WAS SMALL, BUT CYRIL SAW THAT HE 

COULD GET THROUGH IT. 



EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS AGO 79 


winked and blinked and rubbed their eyes. 
During this dazzling interval Anthea felt for 
the charm and pushed it inside Jane’s frock, 
so that it might be quite safe. When their 
eyes got used to the new wonderful light the 
children looked around them. The sky was 
very, very blue, and it sparkled and glittered 
and dazzled like the sea at home when the 
sun shines on it. 

They were standing on a little clearing in a 
thick, low forest ; there were trees and shrubs 
and a close, thorny, tangly undergrowth. In 
front of them stretched a bank of strange 
black mud, then came the browny-yellowy 
shining ribbon of a river. Then more dry, 
caked mud and more greeny-browny jungle. 
The only things that told that human people 
had been there were the clearing, a path that 
led to it, and an odd arrangement of cut 
reeds in the river. 

They looked at each other. 

“Well!” said Robert, “this is a change of 
air ! ” 

It was. The air was hotter than they 
could have imagined, even in London in 
August. 

“ I wish I knew where we were,” said Cyril. 
“ Here’s a river, now — I wonder whether it’s 
the Amazon or the Tiber, or what.” 

“ It’s the Nile,” said the Psammead, looking 
out of the fish-bag. 

“ Then this is Egypt,” said Robert, who had 
once taken a geography prize. 


80 


THE AMULET 


“ I don’t see any crocodiles,” Cyril objected. 
His prize had been for natural history. 

The Psammead reached out a hairy arm 
from its basket and pointed to a heap of mud 
at the edge of the water. 

“ What do you call that ? ” it said ; and as it 
spoke the heap of mud slid into the river just 
as a slab of badly mixed mortar will slip from 
a bricklayer’s trowel. 

“ Oh ! ” said everybody. 

There was a crashing among the reeds on 
the other side of the water. 

“ And there’s a river-horse ! ” said the 
Psammead, as a great beast like an enor- 
mous slaty-blue slug showed itself against 
the black bank on the far side of the 
stream. 

“ It’s a hippopotamus,” said Cyril ; “ it seems 
much more real somehow than the one at the 
Zoo, doesn’t it ? ” 

“I’m glad it^ being real on the other side 
of the river,” said Jane. 

And now there was a crackling of reeds and 
twigs behind them. This was hoi'rible. Of 
course it might be another hippopotamus, or 
a crocodile, or a lion — or, in fact, almost 
anything. 

“ Keep your hand on the charm, Jane,” said 
Robert hastily. “We ought to have a means 
of escape handy. I’m dead certain this is the 
sort of place where simply anything might 
happen to us.” 

“ I believe a hippopotamus is going to 


EIGHT THOUSAND YEAKS AGO 81 


happen to us,” said Jane — “ a very, very big 
one.” 

They had all turned to face the danger. 

“ Don’t be silly little duffers,” said the 
Psammead in its friendly, informal way ; “ it’s 
not a river-horse. It’s a human.” 

It was. It was a girl — of about Anthea’s 
age. Her hair was short and fair, and though 
her skin was tanned by the sun, you could see 
that it would have been fair too if it had had 
a chance. She had every chance of being 
tanned, for she had no clothes to speak of, 
and the four English children, carefully 
dressed in frocks, hats, shoes, stockings, 
coats, collars, and all the rest of it, envied 
her more than any words of theirs or of mine 
could possibly say. There was no doubt that 
hers was the right costume for that climate. 

She carried a pot on her head, of red and 
black earthenware. She did not see the chil- 
dren, who shrank back against the edge of the 
jungle, and she went forward to the brink of 
the river to fill her pitcher. As she went she 
made a strange sort of droning, humming, 
melancholy noise all on two notes. Anthea 
could not help thinking that perhaps the girl 
thought this noise was singing. 

The girl filled the pitcher and set it down 
by the river brink. Then she waded into the 
water and stooped over the circle of cut 
reeds. She pulled half a dozen fine fish out of 
the water within the reeds, killing each as she 
took it out, and threading it on a long osier 
6 


82 


THE AMULET 


that she carried. Then she knotted the osier, 
hung it on her arm, picked up the pitcher and 
turned to come back. And as she turned she 
saw the four children. The white dresses of 
Jane and Anthea stood out like snow against 
the dark forest background. She screamed 
and the pitcher fell, and the water was spilled 
out over the hard mud surface and over the 
fish, which had fallen too. Then the water 
slowly trickled away into the deep cracks. 

“Don’t be frightened,” Anthea cried, “we 
won’t hurt you.” 

“ Who are you ? ” said the girl. 

Now, once for all, I am not going to be 
bothered to tell you how it was that the girl 
could understand Anthea and Anthea could 
understand the girl. You, at any rate, would 
not understand me, if I tried to explain it, any 
more than you can understand about time 
and space being only forms of thought. You 
may think wdiat you like. Perhaps the 
children had found out the universal language 
which every one can understand, and which 
wise men so far have not found. You will 
have noticed long ago that they were 
singularly lucky children, and they may 
have had this piece of luck as well as others. 
Or it may have been that . . . but why 
pursue the question farther? The fact re- 
mains that in all their adventures the muddle- 
headed inventions which we call foreign 
languages never bothered them in the least. 
They could always understand and be under- 


EIGHT THOUSAND YEAES AGO 83 


stood. If you can explain this, please do. I 
daresay I could understand your explanation, 
though you could never understand mine. 

So when the girl said, “Who are you?” 
every one understood at once, and Anthea 
replied — 

“We are children — just like you. Don’t be 
frightened. Won’t you show us where you 
live?” 

Jane put her face right into the Psam- 
mead’s basket, and burrowed her mouth into 
its fur to whisper — 

“Is it safe? Won’t they eat us? Are they 
cannibals ? ” 

The Psammead shrugged its fur. 

“Don’t make your voice buzz like that, it 
tickles my ears,” it said rather crossly. “You 
can always get back to Regent’s Park in time 
if you keep fast hold of the charm,” it said. 

The strange girl was trembling with fright. 

Anthea had a bangle on her arm. It was a 
sevenpenny-halfpenny trumpery brass thing 
that pretended to be silver ; it had a glass 
heart of turquoise blue hanging from it, and 
it was the gift of the maid-of-all-work at the 
Fitzroy Street house. 

“ Here,” said Anthea, “this is for you. That 
is to show we will not hurt you. And if you 
take it I shall know that you won’t hurt us.” 

The girl held out her hand. Anthea slid 
the bangle over it, and the girl’s face lighted 
up with the joy of possession. 

“Come,” she said, looking lovingly at the 



THE GIRL HELD OUT HER ARM. ANTHEA SLID THE BANGLE 

ON IT. 



EIGHT THOUSAND TEAKS AGO 85 


bangle ; “ it is peace between your house and 
mine.” 

She picked up her fish and pitcher and led 
the way up the narrow path by which she 
had come, and the others followed. 

“ This is something like ! ” said Cyril, trying 
to be brave. 

“ Yes ! ” said Robert, also assuming a bold- 
ness he was very far from feeling, “ this 
really and truly is an adventure ! Its being 
in the Past makes it quite different from the 
Phoenix and Carpet happenings.” 

The belt of thick, growing acacia trees 
and shrubs — mostly prickly and unpleasant- 
looking — seemed about half a mile across. 
The path was narrow and the wood dark. 
At last, ahead, daylight shone through the 
boughs and leaves. 

The whole party suddenly came out of the 
wood’s shadow into the glare of the sunlight 
that shone on a great stretch of yellow sand, 
dotted with heaps of grey rocks where spiky 
cactus plants showed gaudy crimson and pink 
flowers among their shabby, sand-peppered 
leaves. Away to the right was something 
that looked like a grey-brown hedge, and 
from beyond it blue smoke went up to the 
bluer sky. And over all the sun shone till 
you could hardly bear your clothes. 

“ That is where I live,” said the girl, 
pointing. 

“ I won’t go,” whispered Jane into the 
basket, “ unless you say it’s all right.” 


86 


THE AMULET 


The Psammead ought to have been touched 
by this proof of confidence. Perhaps, how- 
ever, it looked upon it as a proof of doubt, 
for it merely snarled — 

“If you don’t go now I’ll never help you 
again.” 

“ 0/i,” whispered Anthea, “dear Jane, don’t! 
Think of Father and Mother and all of us 
getting our heart’s desire. And we can go 
back any minute. Come on ! ” 

“Besides,” said Cyril, in a low voice, “the 
Psammead must know there’s no danger or 
it wouldn’t go. It’s not so over and above 
brave itself. Come on ! ” 

This Jane at last consented to do. 

As they got nearer to the browny fence 
they saw that it was a great hedge about 
eight feet high, made of piled-up thorn 
bushes. 

“ What’s that for?” asked Cyril. 

“To keep out foes and wild beasts,” said 
the girl. 

“ I should think it ought to, too,” said he. 
“ Why, some of the thorns are as long as 
my foot.” 

There was an opening in the hedge, and 
they followed the girl through it. A little 
way further on was another hedge, not so 
high, also of dry thorn hushes, very prickly 
and spiteful-looking, and within this was a 
sort of village of huts. 

There were no gardens and no roads. Just 
huts built of wood and twigs and clay, and 


EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS AGO 87 


roofed with great palm-leaves, dumped down 
anywhere. The doors of these houses were 
very low, like the doors of dog-kennels. The 
ground between them was not paths or 
streets, but just yellow sand trampled very 
hard and smooth. 

In the middle of the village there was a 
hedge that enclosed what seemed to be a 
piece of ground about as big as their own 
garden in Camden Town. 

No sooner were the children well within 
the inner thorn hedge than dozens of men 
and women and children came crowding 
round from behind and inside the huts. 

The girl stood j)rotectingly in front of the 
four children, and said — 

“ They are wonder-children from beyond 
the desert. They bring marvellous gifts, and 
I have said that it is peace between us and 
them.” 

She held out her arm with the Lowther 
Arcade bangle on it. 

The children from London, where nothing 
now surprises any one, had never before seen 
so many people look so astonished. 

They crowded round the children, touching 
their clothes, their shoes, the buttons on the 
boys’ jackets, and the coral of the girls’ 
necklaces. 

“ Do say something,” whispered Anthea. 

“We come,” said Cyril, with some dim 
remembrance of a dreadful day when he had 
had to wait in an outer office while his father 


88 


THE AMULET 


interviewed a solicitor, and there had been 
nothing to read but the Daily Telegraph — 
“ we come from the world where the sun 
never sets. And peace with honour is what 
we want. We are the great Anglo-Saxon or 
conquering race. Not that we want to con- 
quer you,'' he added hastily. “We only 
want to look at your houses and your — well, 
at all you’ve got here, and then we shall 
return to our own place, and tell of all that 
we have seen so that your name may be 
famed.” 

Cyril’s speech didn’t keep the crowd from 
pressing round and looking as eagerly as ever 
at the clothing of the children. Anthea had 
an -idea that these people had never seen 
wqf en stuff before, and she saw how wonder- 
ful and strange it must seem to people who 
had never had any clothes but the skins of 
beasts. The sewing, too, of modern clothes 
seemed to astonish them very much. They 
must have been able to sew themselves, by the 
way, for men who seemed to be the chiefs 
wore knickerbockers of goat-skin or deer- 
skin, fastened round the waist with twisted 
strips of hide. And the women wore long, 
skimpy skirts of animals’ skins. The people 
were not very tall, their hair was fair, and 
men and women both had it short. Their 
eyes were blue, and that seemed odd in 
Egypt. Most of them were tattooed like 
sailors, only more roughly. 

“ What is this ? What is this ? ” they kept 


EIGHT THOUSAND TEAKS AGO 89 


asking, touching the children’s clothes 
curiously. 

Anthea hastily took off Jane’s frilly lace 
collar and handed it to the woman who 
seemed most friendly. 

“ Take this,” she said, “ and look at it. And 
leave us alone. We want to talk among 
ourselves.” 

She spoke in the tone of authority which 
she had always found successful when she 
had not time to coax her baby brother to do 
as he was told. The tone was just as 
successful now. The children were left 
together and the crowd retreated. It paused 
a dozen yards away to look at the lace 
collar and to go on talking as hard as it 
could. 

The children will never know what those 
people said, though they know well enough 
that they, the four strangers, were the 
subject of the talk. They tried to comfort 
themselves by remembering the girl’s promise 
of friendliness, but of course the thought of 
the charm was more comfortable than any- 
thing else. They sat down on the sand in 
the shadow of the hedged-round place in the 
middle of the village, and now for the first 
time they were able to look about them and 
to see something more than a crowd of eager, 
curious faces. 

They here noticed that the women wore 
necklaces made of beads of different coloured 
stone, and from these hung pendants of odd. 



THE CROWD PAUSED A DOZEN YARDS AWAY TO LOOK AT THE LACE 

COLLAR. 



EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS AGO 91 


strange shapes, and some of them had 
bracelets of ivory and flint. 

“ I say,” said Robert, “ what a lot we could 
teach them if we stayed here ! ” 

“ I expect they could teach us something 
too,” said Cyril. “Did you notice that flint 
bracelet the woman had that Anthea gave 
the collar to ? That must have taken some 
making. Look here, they’ll get suspicious if 
we talk among ourselves, and I do want to 
know about how they do things. Let’s get 
the girl to show us round, and we can be 
thinking about how to get the Amulet at the 
same time. Only mind, we must keep 
together.” 

Anthea beckoned to the girl, who was 
standing a little way off looking wistfully 
at them, and she came gladly. 

“Tell us how you make the bracelets, the 
stone ones,” said Cyril. 

“ With other stones,” said the girl ; “ the 
men make them ; we have men of special 
skill in such work.” 

“ Haven’t you any iron tools ? ” 

“ Iron,” said the girl, “ I don’t know what 
you mean.” It was the first word she had 
not understood. 

“ Are all your tools of flint ? ” asked Cyril. 

“ Of course,” said the girl, opening her eyes 
wide. 

I wish I had time to tell you of that talk. 
The English children wanted to hear all 
about this new place, but they also wanted 


92 


THE AMULET 


to tell of their own country. It was like 
when you come back from your holidays and 
you want to hear and to tell everything at 
the same time. As the talk went on there 
were more and more words that the girl could 
not understand, and the children soon gave 
up the attempt to explain to her what their 
own country was like, when they began to see 
how very few of the things they had always 
thought they could not do without were 
really at all necessary to life. 

The girl showed them how the huts were 
made — indeed, as one was being made that 
very day she took them to look at it. The 
way of building was very different to ours. 
The men stuck long pieces of w^ood into a 
piece of ground the size of the hut they 
wanted to make. These were about eight 
inches apart ; then they put in another 
row about eight inches away from the first, 
and then a third row still further out. 
Then all the space between was filled up 
with small branches and twigs, and then 
daubed over with black mud worked with the 
feet till it was soft and sticky like putty. 

The girl told them how the men went 
hunting with Hint spears and arrows, and 
how they made boats with reeds and clay. 
Then she explained the reed thing in the 
river that she had taken the fish out of. It 
was a fish-trap — just a ring of reeds set up 
in the water with only one little opening in 
it, and in this opening, just belcw^ the water, 


EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS AGO 93 


were stuck reeds slanting the way of the 
river’s flow, so that the fish, when they had 
swum sillily in, sillily couldn’t get out again. 
She showed them the clay pots and jars and 
platters, some of them ornamented with 
black and red patterns, and the most wonder- 
ful things made of flint and different sorts 
of stone, beads, and ornaments, and tools 
and weapons of all sorts and kinds. 

“ It is really wonderful,” said Cyril patronis- 
ingly, “when you consider that it’s all eight 
thousand years ago ” 

“ I don’t understand you,” said the girl. 

“ It isnt eight thousand years ago,” 
whispered Jane. “It’s now — and that’s just 
what I don’t like about it. I say, do let’s 
get home again before anything more 
happens. You can see for yourself the 
charm isn’t here.” 

“ What’s in that place in the middle ? ” 
asked Anthea, struck by a sudden thought, 
and pointing to the fence. 

“ That’s the secret sacred place,” said the 
girl in a whisper. “No one knows what is 
there. There are many walls, and inside the 
insidest one It is, but no one knows what 
It is except the headmen.” 

“ I believe you know,” said Cyril, looking at 
her very hard. 

“I’ll give you this if you’ll tell me,” said 
Anthea, taking off a bead-ring which had 
already been much admired. 

“ Yes,” said the girl, catching eagerly at the 


94 


THE AMULET 


ring. “ My father is one of the heads, and I 
know a water charm to make him talk in 
his sleep. And he has spoken. I will tell 
you. But if they know I have told they 
will kill me. In the insidest inside there is 
a stone box, and in it there is the Amulet. 
None knows whence it came. It came from 
very far away.” 

“ Have you seen it ? ” asked Anthea. 

The girl nodded. 

“ Is it anything like this ? ” asked Jane, 
rashly producing the charm. 

The girl’s face turned a sickly greenish 
white. 

“ Hide it, hide it,” she whispered. “ You 
must put it back. If they see it they will 
kill us all. You for taking it, and me for 
knowing that there was such a thing. Oh, 
woe — woe! why did you ever come here?” 

“ Don’t be frightened,” said Cyril. “ They 
shan’t know. Jane, don’t you be such a little 
jack-ape again — that’s all. You see what will 

happen if you do. Now, tell me ” He 

turned to the girl, but before he had time 
to speak the question there was a loud shout, 
and a man bounded in through the opening 
in the thorn-hedge. 

“ Many foes are upon us 1 ” he cried. “ Make 
ready the defences ! ” 

His breath only served for that, and he 
lay panting on the ground. 

“ Oh, do let’s go home !” said Jane. “ Look 
here— I don’t care — I loill!” 


# 





r 


MAN BOUNDED IN THROUGH THE OPENING IN THE THORN-HEDGE. 



96 


THE AMULET 


She held up the charm. Fortunately all 
the strange, fair people were too busy to 
notice her. She held up the charm. And 
nothing happened. 

“ You haven’t said the word of power,” said 
Anthea. 

Jane hastily said it — and still nothing 
happened. 

“ Hold it up towards the East, you silly ! ” 
said Robert. 

“ Which is the East ? ” said Jane, dancing 
about in her agony of terror. 

Nobody knew. So they opened the fish- 
bag to ask the Psammead. 

And the bag had only a waterproof sheet 
in it. 

The Psammead was gone. 

“ Hide the sacred thing ! hide it ! Hide it ! ” 
whispered the girl. 

Cyril shrugged his shoulders, and tried to 
look as brave as he knew he ought to feel. 

“Hide it up. Pussy,” he said. “We are in 
for it now. We’ve just got to stay and see 
it out.” 


CHAPTER V 


THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE 

Here was a horrible position ! Four English 
children, whose proper date was a.d. 1905, 
and whose proper address was London, set 
down in Egypt in the year 6000 B.C., with no 
means whatever of getting back into their 
own time and place. They could not find the 
East, and the sun was of no use at the moment, 
because some officious person had once ex- 
plained to Cyril that the sun did not really 
set in the West at all — nor rise in the East 
either, for the matter of that. 

The Psammead had crept out of the bass- 
bag when they were not looking and had 
basely deserted them. 

An enemy was approaching. There would 
be a fight. People get killed in fights, and 
thP idea of taking part in a fight was one that 
did not smile to the children. 

The man who had brought the news of the 
enemy still lay panting on the sand. His 
tongue was hanging out, long and red, like 
a dog’s. The people of the village were hur- 
7 97 


98 


THE AMULET 


riedly filling the gaps in the fence with thorn- 
bushes from the heap that seemed to have 
been* piled there ready for just such a need. 
They lifted the clustering thorns with long 
poles — much as men at home, nowadays, lift 
hay with a fork. 

Jane bit her lip and tried to decide not to 
cry. 

Robert felt in his pocket for a toy pistol 
and loaded it with a pink paper cap. It was 
his only weapon. 

Cyril tightened his belt two holes. 

And Anthea absently took the drooping red 
roses from the buttonholes of the others, bit 
the ends of the stalks, and set them in a pot 
of water that stood in the shadow by a hut 
door. She was always rather silly about 
flowers. 

“ Look here ! ” she said. “ I think perhaps 
the Psammead is really arranging something 
for us. I don’t believe it would go away and 
leave us all alone in the Past. I’m certain it 
wouldn’t.” 

Jane succeeded in deciding not to cry — at 
any rate yet. 

“ But what can we do ? ” Robert asked. 

“Nothing,” Cyril answered promptly, “ex- 
cept keep our eyes and ears open. Look ! 
That runner chap’s getting his wind. Let’s 
go and hear what he’s got to say.” 

The runner had risen to his knees and was 
sitting back on his heels. Now he stood up 
and spoke. He began by some respectful 


THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE 99 


remarks addressed to the heads of the village. 
His speech got more interesting when he said — 

“ I went out in my raft to snare ibises, and 
I had gone up the stream an hour’s journey. 
Then I set my snares and waited. And I 
heard the sound of many wings, and looking 
up, saw many herons circling in the air. 
And I saw that they were afraid ; so I took 
thought. A beast may scare one heron, com- 
ing upon it suddenly, but no beast will scare a 
whole flock of herons. And still they flew 
and circled, and would not alight. So then 
I knew that what had scared the herons must 
be men, and men who know not our ways of 
going softly so as to take the birds and beasts 
unawares. By this I knew they were not of 
our race or of our place. So, leaving my raft, 
I crept along the river-bank, and at last came 
upon the strangers. They are many as the 
sands of the desert, and their spear-heads 
shine red like the sun. They are a terrible 
people, and their march is towards us. 
Having seen this, I ran, and did not stay till 
I was before you.” 

“ These are your folk,” said the headman, 
turning suddenly and angrily on Cyril, “ You 
came as spies for them.” 

“We did not,'’ said Cyril indignantly. “We 
wouldn’t be spies for anything. I’m certain 
these people aren’t a bit like us. Are they 
now?” he asked the runner. 

“ No,” was the answer. “ These men’s faces 
were darkened, and their hair black as night. 

^FC, 





t. 


“THESE ARE YOUR FOLK,” SAID THE HEADMAN, TURNING SUDDENLY AND , 

ANGRILY ON CYRIL. ! 


i 

'i 


THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE 101 


Yet these strange children, maybe, are their 
gods, who have come before to make ready 
the way for them.” 

A murmur ran through the crowd. 

“No, no,” said Cyril again. “We are on 
your side. We will help you to guard your 
sacred things.” 

The headman seemed impressed by the fact 
that Cyril knew that there were sacred things 
to be guarded. He stood a moment gazing at 
the children. Then he said — 

“It is well. And now let all make offering, 
that we may be strong in battle.” 

The crowd dispersed, and nine men, wearing 
antelope-skins, grouped themselves in front of 
the opening in the hedge in the middle of the 
village. And presently, one by one, the men 
brought all sort of things — hippopotamus 
flesh, ostrich-feathers, the fruit of the date 
palms, red chalk, green chalk, fish from the 
river, and ibex from the mountains ; and the 
headmen received these gifts. There was 
another hedge inside the first, about a yard 
from it, so that there was a lane inside be- 
tween the hedges. And every now and then 
one of the headmen would disappear along 
this lane with full hands and come back with 
hands empty. 

“ They’re making offerings to their Amulet,” 
said Anthea. “We’d better give something 
too.” 

The pockets of the party, hastily explored, 
yielded a piece of pink tape, a bit of sealing- 


102 


THE AMULET 


wax, and part of the Waterbury watch that 
Robert had not been able to help taking to 
pieces at Christmas and had never had time 
to rearrange. Most boys have a watch in this 
condition. 

They presented their offerings, and Anthea 
added the red roses. 

The headman who took the things looked 
at them with awe, especially at the red roses 
and the Waterbury- watch fragment. 

“ This is a day of very wondrous happen- 
ings,” he said. “ I have no more room in me 
to be astonished. Our maiden said there was 
peace between you and us. But for this com- 
ing of a foe we should have made sure.” 

The children shuddered. 

“ Now speak. Are you upon our side ? ” 

“ Yes. Don’t I keep telling you we are ? ” 
Robert said. “ Look here. I will give you a 
sign. You see this.” He held out the toy 
pistol. “ I shall speak to it, and if it answers 
me you will know that I and the others are 
come to guard your sacred thing — that we’ve 
just made the offerings to.” 

“Will that god whose image you hold in 
your hand speak to you alone, or shall I also 
hear it ? ” asked the man cautiously. 

“ You’ll be surprised when you do hear it,” 
said Robert. “Now, then.” He looked at the 
pistol and said— 

“ If we are to guard the sacred treasure 
within ” — he i^ointed to the hedged-in space — 
“speak with thy loud voice, and we shall obey.” 


THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE 103 


He pulled the trigger, and the cap went off. 
The noise was loud, for it was a two-shilling 
pistol, and the caps were excellent. 

Every man, woman, and child in the village 
fell on its face on the sand. 

The headman who had accepted the test 
rose first. 

“ The voice has spoken,” he said. “ Lead 
them into the ante-room of the sacred thing.” 

So now the four children were led in 
through the opening of the hedge and round 
the lane till they came to an opening in the 
inner hedge, and they went through an open- 
ing in that, and so passed into another lane. 

The thing was built something like this, 
and all the hedges were of brushwood and 
thorns : — 




THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE 105 


“ It’s like the maze at Hampton Court,” 
whispered Anthea. 

The lanes were all open to the sky, but the 
little hut in the middle of the maze was 
round-roofed, and a curtain of skins hung 
over the doorway. 

“Here you may wait,” said their guide; 
“ but do not dare to pass the curtain.” He 
himself passed it and disappeared. 

“ But look here,” whispered Cyril, “ some of 
us ought to be outside, in case the Psammead 
turns up.” 

“ Don’t let’s get separated from each other, 
whatever we do,” said Anthea. “ It’s quite 
bad enough to be separated from the Psam- 
niead. We can’t do anything while that man 
is in there. Let’s all go out into the village 
again. We can come back later now we 
know the way in. That man’ll have to fight 
like the rest, most likely, if it comes to fight- 
ing. If we find the Psammead we’ll go 
straight home. It must be getting late, and 
I don’t much like this mazy place.” 

They went out and told the headman that 
they would protect the treasure when the 
fighting began. And now they looked about 
them and were able to see exactly how a 
first-class worker in flint flakes and notches 
an arrow-head or the edge of an axe — an 
advantage which no other person now alive 
has ever enjoyed. The boys found the 
weapons most interesting. The arrow-heads 
were not on arrows such as you shoot from 


106 


THE AMULET 


a bow, but on javelins, for throwing from the 
hand. The chief weapon was a stone fastened 
to a rather short stick something like the 
things gentlemen used to carry about and 
call life-preservers in the days of the gar- 
rotters. Then there were long things like 
spears or lances, with flint heads to them, 
and there were flint knives — horribly sharp— 
and flint battle-axes. 

Every one in the village was so busy that 
the place was like an ant-heap when you have 
walked into it by accident. The women were 
busy and even the children. 

Quite suddenly all the air seemed to glow 
and grow red — it was like the sudden opening 
of a furnace door, such as you may see at 
Woolwich Arsenal if you ever have the luck to 
be taken there — and then almost as suddenly 
it was as though the furnace doors had been 
shut. For the sun had set, and it was night. 

The sun had that abrupt way of setting 
in Egypt eight thousand years ago, and I 
believe it has never been able to break itself 
of the habit, and sets in exactly the same 
manner to the present day. The girl brought 
the skins of wild deer and led the children to 
a heap of dry sedge. 

“My father says they will not attack yet. 
Sleep ! ” she said, and it really seemed a good 
idea. You may think that in the midst of all 
these dangers the children would not have 
been able to sleej^ — but somehow, though 
they were rather frightened now and then. 


THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE 107 


the feeling was growing in them — deep down 
and almost hidden away, but still growing — 
that the Psammead was to be trusted, and 
that they were really and truly safe. This 
did not prevent their being quite as much 
frightened as they could bear to be without 
being perfectly miserable. 

“I suppose we’d better go to sleep,” said 
Robert. “ I don’t know what on earth poor 
old Nurse will do with us out all night ; set 
the police on our tracks, I expect. I only wish 
they could find us ! a dozen policemen would 
be rather welcome just now. But it’s no use 
getting into a stew over it,” he added sooth- 
ingly. “ Good-night.” 

And they all fell asleep. 

They were awakened by long, loud, terrible 
sounds that seemed to come from everywhere 
at once — horrible threatening shouts and 
shrieks and howls that sounded, as Cyril said 
later, like the voices of men thirsting for their 
enemies’ blood. 

“ It is the voice of the strange men,” said the 
girl, coming to them trembling through the 
dark. “ They have attacked the walls, and 
the thorns have driven them back. My father 
says they will not try again till daylight. 
But they are shouting to frighten us. As 
though we were savages ! dwellers in the 
swamps ! ” she said indignantly. 

All night the terrible noise went on, but 
when the sun rose, as abruptly as he had set, 
the sound suddenly ceased. 


108 


THE AMULET 


The children had hardly time to be glad of 
this before a shower of javelins came hurtling 
over the great thorn-hedge, and every one 
sheltered behind the huts. But next moment 
another shower of weapons came from the 
opposite side, and the crowd rushed to other 
shelter. Cyril pulled out a javelin that had 
stuck in the roof of the hut beside him. Its 
head was of brightly burnished copper. 

Then the sound of shouting arose again and 
the crackle of dried thorns. The enemy was 
breaking down the hedge. All the villagers 
swarmed to the point whence the crackling 
and the shouting came ; they hurled stones 
over the hedges, and short arrows with flint 
heads. The children had never before seen 
men with the fighting light in their eyes. It 
was very strange and terrible, and gave you 
a queer thick feeling in your throat ; it was 
quite difterent from the pictures of fights in 
the illustrated papers at home. 

It seemed that the shower of stones had 
driven back the besiegers. The besieged drew 
breath, but at that moment the shouting and 
the crackling arose on the opposite side of the 
village and the crowd hastened to defend that 
point, and so the fight swayed to and fro 
across the village, for the besieged had not 
the sense to divide their forces as their 
enemies had done. 

Cyril noticed that every now and then 
certain of the fighting-men would enter 
the maze, and come out with brighter 


THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE 109 


faces, a braver aspect, and a more upright 
carriage. 

“ I believe they go and touch the Amulet,” 
he said. “You know the Psammead said it 
could make people brave.” 

They crept through the maze, and watching 
they saw that Cyril was right. A headman 
was standing in front of the skin curtain, and 
as the warriors came before him he murmured 
a word they could not hear, and touched their 
foreheads with something that they could not 
see. And this something he held in his hands. 
And through his fingers they saw the gleam 
of a red stone that they knew. 

The fight raged across the thorn-hedge 
outside. Suddenly there was a loud and 
bitter cry. 

“ They’re in ! They’re in ! The hedge is 
down ! ” 

The headman disappeared behind the deer- 
skin curtain. 

“ He’s gone to hide it,” said Anthea. “ Oh, 
Psammead dear, how could you leave us ! ” 

Suddenly there was a shriek from outside 
the hut, and the headman staggered out 
white with fear and fled out through the 
maze. The children were as white as he. 

“ Oh ! what is it ? what is it ? ” moaned 
Anthea. “ Oh, Psammead, how could you ! 
how could you ! ” 

And the sound of the fight sank breathlessly 
and swelled fiercely all around. It was like 
the rising and falling of the waves of the sea. 


no 


THE AMULET 


Anthea shuddered and said again, “ Oh, 
Psammead, Psammead ! ” 

“Well?” said a brisk voice, and the curtain 
of skins was lifted at one corner by a furry 
hand, and out peeped the bat’s ears and snail’s 
eyes of the Psammead. 

Anthea caught it in her arms and a sigh of 
desperate relief was breathed by each of the 
four. 

“ Oh ! which is the East ! ” Anthea said, and 
she spoke hurriedly, for the noise of wild 
fighting drew nearer and nearer. 

“ Don’t choke me,” said the Psammead, 
“ come inside.” 

The inside of the hut was pitch dark. 

“ I’ve got a match,” said Cyril, and struck 
it. The floor of the hut was of soft, loose 
sand. 

“ I’ve been asleep here,” said the Psammead ; 
“ most comfortable it’s been, the best sand I’ve 
had for a month. It’s all right. Everything’s 
all right. I knew your only chance would be 
while the fight was going on. That man 
won’t come back. I bit him, and he thinks 
I’m an Evil Spirit. Now you’ve only got to 
take the thing and go.” 

The hut was hung with skins. Heaped in 
the middle were the offerings that had been 
given the night before, Anthea’s roses fading 
on the top of the heap. At one side of the 
hut stood a large square stone block, and on 
it an oblong box of earthenware with strange 
figures of men and beasts on it. 



OUT PEEPED THE BAT’S EARS AND SNAIL’S EYES OF THE PSAMMEAD. 


112 


THE AMULET 


“ Is the thing in there ? ” asked Cyril, as 
the Psammead pointed a skinny finger at it. 

“You must judge of that,” said the 
Psammead. “ The man was just going to 
bury the box in the sand when I jumped 
out at him and bit him.” 

“ Light another match, Robert,” said 
Anthea. “ Now, then, quick ! which is the 
East ? ” 

“ Why, where the sun rises, of course ! ” 

“ But some one told us ” 

“ Oh, they’ll tell you anything ! ” said the 
Psammead impatiently, getting into its bass- 
bag and wrapping itself in its waterproof 
sheet. 

“ But we can’t see the sun in here, and it 
isn’t rising anyhow,” said Jane. 

“ How you do waste time ! ” the Psammead 
said. “ Why, the East’s where the shrine is, 
of course. There ! ” 

It pointed to the great stone. 

And still the shouting and the clash of stone 
on metal sounded nearer and nearer. The 
children could hear that the headmen had 
surrounded the hut to protect their treasure 
as long as might be from the enemy. But 
none dared to come in after the Psammead's 
sudden fierce biting of the headman. 

“ Now, Jane,” said Cyril, very quickly. “ I’ll 
take the Amulet, you stand ready to hold up 
the charm, and be sure you don’t let it go as 
you come through.” 

He made a step forward, but at that instant 


THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE 113 


a great crackling overhead ended in a blaze 
of sunlight. The roof had been broken in at 
one side, and great slabs of it were being 
lifted off by two spears. As the children 
trembled and winked in the new light large 
dark hands tore down the wall, and a dark 
face, with a blobby fat nose, looked over the 
gap. Even at that awful moment Anthea 
had time to think that it was very like the 
face of Mr. Jacob Absalom, who had sold 
them the charm in the shop near Charing 
Cross. 

“ Here is their iVmulet,” cried a harsh, 
strange voice ; “ it is this that makes them 
strong to fight and brave to die. And what 
else have we here — gods or demons ? ’ 

He glared fiercely at the children, and the 
whites of his eyes were very white indeed. 
He had a wet, red copper knife in his teeth. 
There was not a moment to lose. 

“ Jane, Jane, QUICK ! ” cried every one 
passionately. 

Jane with trembling hands held up the 
charm towards the East, and Cyril spoke the 
word of power. The Amulet grew to a great 
arch. Out beyond it was the glaring Egyptian 
sky, the broken wall, the cruel, dark big- 
nosed face with the red, wet knife in its 
gleaming teeth. Within the arch was the 
dull, faint, greeny-brown of London grass 
and trees. 

“ Hold tight, Jane ! ” Cyril cried, and he 
dashed through the arch, dragging Anthea 
8 





OUT BEYOND IT WAS THE GLARING EGYPTIAN SKY, THE BROKEN WALL, 
THE CRUEL, DARK, BIG-NOSED FACE. 


THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE 115 


and the Psammead after him. Robert 
followed, clutching Jane. And in the ears 
of each, as they passed through the arch of 
the charm, the sound and fury of battle died 
out suddenly and utterly, and they heard only 
the low, dull, discontented hum of vast 
London, and the peeking and patting of the 
sparrows on the gravel and the voices of the 
ragged baby children playing Ring-o’-Roses on 
the yellow trampled grass. And the charm 
was a little charm again in Jane’s hand, and 
there was the basket with their dinner and 
the bath-buns lying just where they had 
left it. 

“ My hat ! ” said Cyril, drawing a long 
breath ; “ that was something like an 

adventure.” 

“ It was rather like one, certainly,” said the 
Psammead. 

They all lay still, breathing in the safe, quiet 
air of the Regent’s Park. 

“ We’d better go home at once,” said Anthea 
presently. “ Old Nurse will be most fright- 
fully anxious. The sun looks about the same 
as it did when we started yesterday. We’ve 
been away twenty-four hours.” 

“The buns are quite soft still,” said Cyril, 
feeling one ; “I suppose the dew kept them 
fresh.” 

They were not hungry, curiously enough. 

They picked up the dinner-basket and the 
Psammead-basket, and went straight home. 

Old Nurse met them with amazement. 


116 


THE AMULET 


“Well, if ever I did!” she said. “What’s 
gone wrong? You’ve soon tired of your 
picnic.” 

The children took this to be bitter irony, 
which means saying the exact opposite of 
what you mean in order to make yourself 
disagreeable ; as when you happen to have a 
dirty face, and some one says, “ How nice and 
clean you look ! ” 

“We’re very sorry,” began Anthea, but old 
Nurse said — 

“ Oh, bless me, child, I don’t care ! Please 
yourselves and you’ll please me. Come in 
and get your dinners comf’table. I’ve got a 
potato on a-boiling.” 

When she had gone to attend to the 
potatoes the children looked at each other. 
Could it be that old Nurse had so changed 
that she no longer cared that they should 
have been away from home for twenty-four 
hours— all night in fact — without any explana- 
tion whatever? 

But the Psammead put its head out of its 
basket and said — 

“ What’s the matter ? Don’t you under- 
stand? You come back through the charm- 
arch at the same time as you go through it. 
This isn’t to-morrow I ” 

“ Is it still yesterday ? ” asked Jane. 

“No, it’s to-day. The same as it’s always 
been. It wouldn’t do to go mixing up the 
present and the Past, and cutting bits out 
of one to fit into tjio other.” 


THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE 117 


“ Then all that adventure took no time 
at all ? ” 

“ You can call it that if you like,” said the 
Psammead. “ It took none of the modern 
time, anyhow.” 

That evening Anthea carried up a steak for 
the learned gentleman’s dinner. She per- 
suaded Beatrice, the maid-of-all-work, who 
had given her the bangle with the blue stone, 
to let her do it. And she stayed and talked 
to him, by special invitation, while he ate the 
, dinner. 

She told him the whole adventure, begin- 
ning with — 

“ This afternoon we found ourselves on the 
bank of the River Nile,” and ending up with, 
“ And then we remembered how to get back, 
and there we were in Regent’s Park, and it 
hadn’t taken any time at all.” 

She did not tell anything about the charm 
or the Psammead, because that was forbidden, 
but the story was quite wonderful enough 
even as it was to entrance the learned 
gentleman. 

“You are a most unusual little girl,” he 
said. “ Who tells you all these things ? ” 

“ No one,” said Anthea, “ they just happen.” 

“ Make-believe,” he said slowly, as one who 
recalls and pronounces a long-forgotten word. 

He sat long after she had left him. At last 
he roused himself with a start. 

“ I really must take a holiday,” he said ; 
“my nerves must be all out of order. I 


118 


THE AMULET 


actually have a perfectly distinct impression 
that the little girl from the rooms below came 
in and gave me a coherent and graphic picture 
of life as I conceive it to have been in pre- 
dynastic Egypt. Strange what tricks the 
mind will play ! I shall have to be more 
careful.” 

He finished his bread conscientiously, and 
actually went for a mile walk before he went 
back to his work. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


“ How many miles to Babylon ? 

Three score and ten 1 
Can I get there by candle light ? 

Yes, and back again 1 ” 

Jane was singing to her doll, rocking it to 
and fro in the house which she had made 
for herself and it. The roof of the house 
was the dining-table, and the walls were 
table-cloths and antimacassars hanging all 
round, and kept in their places by books 
laid on their top ends at the table edge. 

The others were tasting the fearful joys of 
domestic toboganning. You know how it is 
done — with the largest and best tea-tray and 
the surface of the stair carpet. It is best to 
do it on the days when the stair rods are 
being cleaned, and the carpet is only held by 
the nails at the top. Of course, it is one of 
the five or six thoroughly tip-top games that 
grown-up people are so unjust to — and old 
Nurse, though a brick in many respects, was 


120 


THE AMULET 


quite enough of a standard grown-up to put 
her foot down on the toboganning long before 
any of the performers had had half enough of 
it. The tea-tray was taken away, and the 
baffled party entered the sitting-room, in 
exactly the mood not to be pleased if they 
could help it. 

So Cyril said, “ What a beastly mess ! ” 

And Robert added, “ Do shut up, Jane !” 

Even Anthea, who was almost always kind, 
advised Jane to try another song. “ I’m sick 
to death of that,” said she. 

It was a wet day, so none of the plans for 
seeing all the sights of London that can be seen 
for nothing, could be carried out. Every one 
had been thinking all the morning about the 
wonderful adventures of the day before, when 
Jane had held up the charm and it had turned 
into an arch, through which they had walked 
straight out of the present time and the 
Regent’s Park into the land of Egypt eight 
thousand years ago. The memory of yester- 
day’s happenings was still extremely fresh 
and frightening, so that every one hoped 
that no one would suggest another excursion 
into the past, for it seemed to all that yester- 
day’s adventures were quite enough to last for 
at least a week. Yet each felt a little anxious 
that the others should not think it was afraid, 
and presently Cyril, who really was not a 
coward, began to see that it would not be 
at all nice if he should have to think himself 
one. So he said — 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


121 


“ I say — about that charm — J ane — come out. 
We ought to talk about it, anyhow.” 

“ Oh, if that’s all,” said Robert. 

Jane obediently wriggled to the front of 
her house and sat there. She felt for the 
charm, to make sure that it was still round 
her neck. 

“ It isnt all,” said Cyril, saying much more 
than he meant because he thought Robert’s 
tone had been rude — as indeed it had. “We 
ought to go and look for that Amulet. 
What’s the good of having a first-class 
charm and keeping it idle, just eating its 
head off in the stable.” 

“ Fm game for anything, of course,” said 
Robert ; but he added, with a fine air of 
chivalry, “only I don’t think the girls are 
keen to-day, somehow.” 

“ Oh, yes ; I am,” said Anthea hurriedly. 
“ If you think I’m afraid. I’m not.” 

“ I am though,” said Jane heavily ; “ I 

didn’t like it, and I won’t go there again — 
not for anything I won’t.” 

“We should go there again, silly,” said 
Cyril ; “ it would be some other place.” 

“ I daresay ; a place with lions and tigers in 
it as likely as not.” 

Seeing Jane so frightened, made the others 
feel quite brave. They said they were certain 
they ought to go. 

“ It’s so ungrateful to the Psammead not 
to,” Anthea added, a little primly. 

Jane stood up. She was desperate. 


122 


THE AMULET 


“ I won’t ! ” she cried ; “ I won’t, I won’t, I 
won’t ! If you make me I’ll scream and I’ll 
scream, and I’ll tell old Nurse, and I’ll get 
her to burn the charm in the kitchen fire. 
So now, then ! ” 

You can imagine how furious every one 
was with Jane for feeling what each of 
them had felt all the morning. In each 
breast the same thought arose, “ No one can 
say it’s our fault.” And they at once began 
to show Jane how angry they all felt that 
all the fault was hers. This made them feel 
quite brave. 

“ Tell-tale tit, its tongue shall be split, 

And all the dogs in our town shall have a little bit,” 

sang Robert. 

“ It’s always the way if you have girls in 
anything.” Cyril spoke in a cold displeasure 
that was worse than Robert’s cruel quotation, 
and even Anthea said, “ Well, Fm not afraid 
if I am a girl,” which, of course, was the most 
cutting thing of all. 

Jane picked up her doll and faced the 
others with what is sometimes called the 
courage of despair. 

“ I don’t care,” she said ; “ I ivont, so there ! 
It’s just silly going to places when you don’t 
want to, and when you don’t know what 
they’re going to be like ! You can laugh at 
me as much as you like. You’re beasts — and 
I hate you all ! ” 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


123 


With these awful words she went out and 
banged the door. 

Then the others would not look at each 
other, and they did not feel so brave as 
they had done. 

Cyril took up a book, but it was not 
interesting to read. Robert kicked a chair- 
leg absently. His feet were always eloquent 
in moments of emotion. Anthea stood 
pleating the end of the table-cloth into 
folds — she seemed earnestly anxious to get 
all the pleats the same size. The sound of 
Jane’s sobs had died away. 

Suddenly Anthea said, “ Oh ! let it be 
‘ pax ’ — poor little Pussy — you know she^s the 
youngest.” 

“ She called us beasts,” said Robert, kicking 
the chair suddenly. 

“Well,” said Cyril, who was subject to 
passing fits of justice, “ we began, you know. 
At least you did,” Cyril’s justice was always 
uncompromising. 

“ I’m not going to say I’m sorry if you 
mean that,” said Robert, and the chair- 
leg cracked to the kick he gave as he said 
it. 

“ Oh, do let’s,” said Anthea, “ we’re 
three to one, and Mother does so hate 
it if we row. Come on. I’ll say I’m 
sorry first, though I didn’t say anything, 
hardly.” 

“ All right, let’s get it over,” said Cyril 
opening the door. “ Hi— you— Pussy ! ” 


124 


THE AMULET 


Far away up the stairs a voice could be 
heard singing brokenly, but still defiantly — 

“How many miles ^snifi) to Babylon? 

Three score and ten (sniff), 

Can I get there by candle light? 

Yes (sniff), and back agam! ’’ 

It was trying, for this was plainly meant to 
annoy. But Anthea would not give herself 
time to think this. She led the way up the 
stairs, taking three at a time, and bounded to 
the level of Jane, who sat on the top step of 
all, thumping her doll to the tune of the song 
she was trying to sing. 

“I say. Pussy, let it be pax ! We’re sorry if 
you are ” 

It was enough. The kiss of peace was 
given by all. Jane being the youngest was 
entitled to this ceremonial. 

Anthea added a special apology of her own. 

“ I’m sorry if I was a pig. Pussy dear,” she 
said — “ especially because in my really and 
truly inside mind I’ve been feeling a little 
as if I’d rather not go into the Past again 
either. But then, do think. If we don’t go 
we shan’t get the Amulet, and oh. Pussy, 
think if we could only get Father and 
Mother and The Lamb safe back ! We must 
go, but we’ll wait a day or two if you like 
and then perhaps you’ll feel braver.” 

“ Raw meat makes you brave, however 
cowardly you are,” said Robert, to show 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


125 


that there was now no ill-feeling, “ and 
cranberries — that’s what Tartars eat, and 
they’re so brave it’s simply awful. I sup- 
pose cranberries are only for Christmas 
time, but I’ll ask old Nurse to let you have 
your chop very raw if you like.” 

“I think I could be brave without that,” 
said Jane hastily ; she hated underdone meat. 
“ I’ll try.” 

At this moment the door of the learned 
gentleman’s room opened, and he looked out. 

“ Excuse me,” he said, in that gentle, polite, 
weary voice of his, “ but was I mistaken in 
thinking that I caught a familiar word just 
now? Were you not singing some old ballad 
of Babylon ? ” 

“No,” said Robert, “at least Jane was 
singing how many miles, but I shouldn’t 
have thought you could have heard the 
words for ” 

He would have said, “ for the sniffing,” but 
Anthea pinched him just in time. 

“ I did not hear all the words,” said the 
learned gentleman. “I wonder would you 
recite them to me?” 

So they all said together — 

“ How many miles to Babylon ? 

Three score and ten 1 
Can I get there by candle light ? 

Yes, and back again 1 ” 

“I wish one could,” the learned gentleman 
said with a sigh. 


126 


THE AMULET 


“ Can’t you ? ” asked Jane. 

“ Babylon has fallen,” he answered with a 
sigh. “ You know it was once a great and 
beautiful city, and the centre of learning 
and Art, and now it is only ruins, and so 
covered up with earth that people are not 
even agreed as to where it once stood.” 

He was leaning on the banisters, and his 
eyes had a far-aAvay look in them, as though 
he could see through the staircase-win- 
dow the splendour and glory of ancient 
Babylon. 

“I say,” Cyril remarked abruptly. “You 
know that charm we showed you, and you 
told us how to say the name that’s on it ? ” 

“Yes!” 

“Well, do you think that charm was ever in 
Babylon ? ” 

“ It’s quite possible,” the learned gentleman 
replied. “ Such charms have been found in 
very early Egyptian tombs, yet their origin 
has not been accurately determined as Egyp- 
tian. They may have been brought from 
Asia. Or, supposing the charm to have been 
fashioned in Egypt, it might very well have 
been carried to Babylon by some friendly 
embassy, or brought back by the Babylonish 
army from some Egyptian campaign as part 
of the spoils of war. The inscription may be 
much later than the charm. Oh, yes ! it is a 
pleasant fancy, that that splendid specimen 
of yours was once used amid Babylonish 
surroundings.” 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


127 


The others looked at each other, but it was 
Jane who spoke. 

“Were the Babylon people savages, were 
they always fighting and throwing things 
about?” For she had read the thoughts of 
the others by the unerring light of her own 
fears. 

“ The Babylonians were certainly more 
gentle than the Assyrians,” said the learned 
gentleman. “And they were not savages by 
any means. A very high level of culture,” he 
looked doubtfully at his audience and went 
on, “ I mean that they made beautiful statues 
and jewellery, and built splendid palaces. And 
they were very learned ; they had glorious 
libraries and high towers for the purpose of 
astrological and astronomical observation.” 

“ Er ? ” said Robert. 

“ I mean for — star-gazing and fortune- 
telling,” said the learned gentleman, “and 
there were temples and beautiful hanging 
gardens ” 

“ I’ll go to Babylon if you like,” said Jane 
abruptly, and the others hastened to say 
“ Done ! ” before she should have time to 
change her mind. 

“Ah,” said the learned gentleman, smiling 
rather sadly, “ one can go so far in dreams, 
when one is young.” He sighed again, and 
then adding with a laboured briskness, “ I 
hope you’ll have a — a — jolly game,” he went 
into his room and shut the door. 

“He said ‘jolly’ as if it was a foreign 


128 


THE AMULET 


language,” said Cyril. “ Come on, let’s get 
the Psammead and go now. I think Baby- 
lon seems a most frightfully jolly place to 
go to.” 

So they woke the Psammead and put it in 
its bass-bag with the waterproof sheet, in 
case of inclement weather in Babylon. It 
was very cross, but it said it would as soon 
go to Babylon as anywhere else. “ The sand 
is good thereabouts,” it added. 

Then Jane held up the charm, and Cyril 
said — 

“We want to go to Babylon to look for the 
part of you that was lost. Will you please 
let us go there through you?” 

“ Please put us down just outside,” said 
Jane hastily; “and then if we don’t like it 
we needn’t go inside.” 

“ Don’t be all day,” said the Psammead. 

So Anthea hastily uttered the word of 
power, without which the charm could do 
nothing. 

“ Ur — hekau— setcheh ! ” she said softly, and 
as she spoke the charm grew into an arch so 
tall that the top of it was close against the 
bedroom ceiling. Outside the arch was the 
bedroom painted chest-of-drawers and the 
Kidderminster carpet, and the washhand- 
stand with the ri vetted willow-pattern jug, 
and the faded curtains, and the dull light 
of indoors on a wet day. Through the arch 
showed the gleam of soft green leaves and 
white blossoms. They stepped forward quite 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


129 


happily. Even Jane felt that this did not 
look like lions, and her hand hardly trembled 
at all as she held the charm for the others to 
go through, and last, slipped through her- 
self, and hung the charm, now grown small 
again, once more round her neck. 

The children found themselves under a 
white-blossomed, green-leafed fruit-tree, in 
what seemed to be an orchard of such 
trees, all white-flowered and green-foliaged. 
Among the long green grass under their feet 
grew crocuses and lilies, and strange blue 
flowers. In the branches overhead thrushes 
and blackbirds were singing, and the coo of 
a pigeon came softly to them in the green 
quietness of the orchard. 

“ Oh, how perfectly lovely ! ” cried Anthea. 
“ Why, it’s like home exactly — I mean 
England — only everything’s bluer, and 
whiter, and greener, and the flowers are 
bigger.” 

The boys owned that it certainly was fairly 
decent, and even Jane admitted that it was 
all very pretty. 

“ I’m certain there’s nothing to be frightened 
of here,” said Anthea. 

“I don’t know,” said Jane. “I suppose the 
fruit-trees go on just the same even when 
people are killing each other. I didn’t half 
like what the learned gentleman said about 
the hanging gardens. I suppose they have 
gardens on purpose to hang people in. I 
do hope this isn’t one.” 


130 


THE AMULET 


“ Of course it isn’t,” said Cyril. “ The hang- 
ing gardens are just gardens hung up — I 
think on chains between houses, don’t you 
know, like trays. Come on ; let’s get some- 
where.” 

They began to walk through the cool grass. 
As far as they could see was nothing but 
trees, and trees, and more trees. At the 
end of their orchard was another one, only 
separated from theirs by a little still stream 
of clear water. They jumped this, and went 
on. Cyril, who was fond of gardening — 
which meant that he liked to watch the 
gardener at work — was able to command 
the respect of the others by telling them 
the names of a good many trees. There 
were nut-trees and almond-trees, and apri- 
cots, and fig-trees with their big five-fingered 
leaves. And every now and then the children 
had to cross another brook. 

“ It’s like between the squares in ‘ Through 
the Looking-glass,’ ” said Anthea. 

At last they came to an orchard which was 
quite ‘different, from the other orchards. It 
had a low building in one corner. 

“ These are vines,” said Cyril superiorly, 
“ and I know this is a vineyard. I shouldn’t 
wonder if there was a wine-press inside that 
place over there.” 

At last they got out of the orchards and on 
to a sort of road, very rough, and not at all 
like the roads you are used to. It had 
cypress-trees and acacia-trees along it, and 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


131 


a sort of hedge of tamarisks, like those you 
see on the road between Nice and Cannes, or 
near Littlehampton, if you’ve only been as far 
as that. 

And now in front of them they could 
see a great mass of buildings. There were 
scattered houses of wood and stone here and 
there among green orchards, and beyond 
these a great wall that shone red in the 
early morning sun. The wall was enor- 
mously high — more than half the height of 
St. Paul’s — and in the wall were set enormous 
gates that shone like gold as the rising sun 
beat on them. Each gate had a solid square 
tower on each side of it that stood out from 
the wall and rose above it. Beyond the wall 
were more towers and houses, gleaming with 
gold and bright colours. Away to the left 
ran the steel-blue swirl of a great river. 
And the children could see, through a gap 
in the trees, that the river flowed out 
from the town under a great arch in the 
wall. 

“ Those feathery things along by the water 
are palms,” said Cyril instructively. 

“ Oh, yes ; you know everything,” Robert 
replied. “ What’s all that grey-green stuff 
you see away over there, where it’s all flat 
and sandy?” 

“ All right,” said Cyril loftily, “ I don’t want 
to tell you anything. I only thought you’d 
like to know a palm-tree when you saw it 
again.” 


« 



IN FEONT OF THEM THEY COULD SEE A GREAT MASS OF BUILDINGS. 


i 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


133 


“ Look ! ” cried Anthea ; “ they’re opening 
the gates.” 

And indeed the great gates swung back 
with a brazen clang, and instantly a little 
crowd of a dozen or more people came out 
and along the road towards them. 

The children, with one accord, crouched 
behind the tamarisk hedge. 

“ I don’t like the sound of those gates,” said 
Jane. “ Fancy being inside when they shut. 
You’d never get out.” 

“ You’ve got an arch of your own to go out 
by,” the Psammead put its head out of the 
basket to remind her. “ Don’t behave so like 
a girl. If I were you I should just march 
right into the town and ask to see the king.” 

There was something at once simple and 
grand about this idea, and it pleased every 
one. 

So when the work-people had passed (they 
icere work-people, the children felt sure, 
because they were dressed so plainly — just 
one long blue shirt thing — of blue or 
yellow) the four children marched boldly 
up to the brazen gate between the towers. 
The arch above the gate was quite a tunnel, 
the walls were so thick. 

“ Courage,” said Cyril. “ Step out. It’s no 
use trying to sneak past. Be bold ! ” 

Robert answered this appeal by unex- 
pectedly bursting into “ The British Grena- 
diers,” and to its quick-step they approached 
the gates of Babylon. 



THEY APPROACHED THE GATES OP BABYLON. 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


135 


“ Some talk of Alexander, 

And some of Hercules, 

Of Hector and Lysander, 

And such great names as these. 

But of all the gallant heroes . . 

This brought them to the threshold of the 
gate, and two men in bright armour suddenly 
barred their way with crossed spears. 

“Who goes there?” they said. 

(I think I must have explained to you 
before how it was that the children were 
always able to understand the language of 
any place they might happen to be in, and 
to be themselves understood. If not, I have 
no time to explain it now.) 

“We come from very far,” said Cyril 
mechanically. “ From the Empire where 
the sun never sets, and we want to see 
your King.” 

“ If it’s quite convenient,” amended Anthea. 

“ The King (may he live for ever !),” said the 
gatekeeper, “ is gone to fetch home his four- 
teenth wife. Where on earth have you come 
from not to know that?” 

“ The Queen then,” said Anthea hurriedly, 
and not taking any notice of the question as 
to where they had come from. 

“ The Queen,” said the gatekeeper, “ (may 
she live for ever !) gives audience to-day three 
hours after sun-rising.” 

“ But what are we to do till the end of the 
three hours ? ” asked Cyril. 

The gatekeeper seemed neither to know nor 


136 


THE AMULET 


to care. He appeared less interested in them 
than they could have thought possible. But 
the man who had crossed spears with him to 
bar the children’s way was more human. 

“ Let them go in and look about them,” he 
said. “I’ll wager my best sword they’ve 
never seen anything to come near our 
little — village.” 

He said it in the tone people use when 
they call the Atlantic Ocean the “ herring 
pond.” 

The gatekeeper hesitated. 

“ They’re only children, after all,” said the 
other, who had children of his own. “ Let 
me off for a few minutes. Captain, and I’ll 
take them to my place and see if my good 
woman can’t fit them up in something a 
little less outlandish than their present rig. 
Then they can have a look round without 
being mobbed. May I go ? ” 

“ Oh yes, if you like,” said the Captain, “ but 
don’t be all day.” 

The man led them through the dark arch 
into the town. And it was very different 
to London. For one thing, everything in 
London seems to be patched up out of odds 
and ends, but these houses seemed all to 
have been built by people who liked the 
same sort of things. Not that they were 
all alike, for though all were squarish, they 
were of different sizes, and decorated in all 
sorts of different ways, some with paintings 
in bright colours, some with black and silver 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


137 


designs. There were terraces, and gardens, 
and balconies, and open spaces with trees. 
Their guide took them to a little house in a 
back street, where a kind-faced woman sat 
spinning at the door of a very dark room. 

“Here,” he said, “just lend these children a 
mantle each, so that they can go about and 
see the place till the Queen’s audience begins. 
You leave that wool for a bit, and show them 
round if you like. I must be off now.” 

The woman did as she was told, and the 
four children, wrapped in fringed mantles, 
went with her all about the town, and 
oh ! how I wish I had time to tell you all 
that they saw. It was all so wonderfully 
different from anything you have ever 
seen. For one thing, all the houses were 
dazzlingly bright, and many of them covered 
with pictures. Some had great creatures 
carved in stone at each side of the door. 
Then the people — there were no black 
frock-coats and tall hats ; no dingy coats 
<.?nd skirts of good, useful, ugly stuffs war- 
ranted to wear. Every one’s clothes were 
bright and beautiful with blue and scarlet 
and green and gold. 

The market was brighter than you would 
think anything could be. There were stalls 
for everything you could possibly want — and 
for a great many things that if you wanted 
here and now, want would be your master. 
There were pineapples and peaches in heaps — 
and stalls of crockery and glass things. 


138 


THE AMULET 


beautiful shapes and glorious colours — there 
were stalls for necklaces, and clasps, and 
bracelets, and brooches, for woven stuffs, and 
furs, and embroidered linen. The children had 
never seen half so many beautiful things 
together, even at Liberty’s. 

It seemed no time at all before the woman 
said — 

“ It’s nearly time now. We ought to be 
getting on towards the palace. It’s as well to 
be early.” 

So they went to the palace, and when they 
got there it was more splendid than anything 
they had seen yet. 

For it was glowing with colours, and with 
gold and silver and black and white — like 
some magnificent embroidery. Flight after 
flight of broad marble steps led up to it, and 
at the edges of the stairs stood great images, 
twenty times as big as a man — images of men 
with wings like chain armour, and hawks’ 
heads, and winged men with the heads of 
dogs. And there were the statues of great 
kings. 

Between the flights of steps were terraces 
where fountains played, and the Queen’s 
Guard in white and scarlet, and armour 
that shone like gold, stood by twos lining the 
way up the stairs ; and a great body of them 
was massed by the vast door of the palace 
itself, where it stood glittering like an im- 
possibly radiant peacock in the noonday sun. 

All sorts of people were passing up the 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


139 


steps to seek audience of the Queen. Ladies 
in richly-embroidered dresses with fringy 
flounces, poor folks in plain and simple clothes, 
dandies with beards oiled and curled. 

And Cyril, Robert, Anthea and Jane, went 
with the crowd. 

At the gate of the palace the Psanamead 
put one eye cautiously out of the basket and 
whispered — 

“ I can’t be bothered with queens. I’ll go 
home with this good lady. I’m sure she’ll get 
me some sand if you ask her to.” 

“ Oh ! don’t leave us,” said Jane. 

The woman was giving some last instructions 
in Court etiquette to Anthea, and did not 
hear Jane. 

“ Don’t be a little muff,” said the Psammead 
quite fiercely. “ It’s not a bit of good your 
having a charm. You never use it. If you 
want me you’ve only got to say the name of 
power and ask the charm to bring me to 
you.” 

“ I’d rather go with you,” said Jane. And it 
was the most surprising thing she had ever 
said in her life. 

Every one opened its mouth without think- 
ing of manners, and Anthea, who was peeping 
into the Psammead’s basket, saw that its 
mouth opened wider than anybody’s. 

“ You needn’t garp like that,” Jane went on. 
“I’m not going to be bothered with queens 
any more than it is. And I know, wherever 
it is, it’ll take jolly good care that it’s safe.” 


140 


THE AMULET 


“ She’s right there,” said every one, for they 
had observed that the Psammead had a way 
of knowing which side its bread was buttered. 

She turned to the woman and said, “ You’ll 
take me home with you, won’t you ? And let 
me play with your little girls till the others 
have done with the Queen.” 

“ Surely I will, little heart ! ” said the 
woman. 

And then Anthea hurriedly stroked the 
Psammead and embraced Jane, who took the 
woman’s hand, and trotted contentedly away 
with the Psammead’s bag under the other 
arm. 

The others stood looking after her till she, 
the woman, and the basket were lost in the 
many-coloured crowd. Then \nthea turned 
once more to the palace’s magnificent doorway 
and said — 

“Let’s ask the porter to take care of our 
Babylonian overcoats.” 

So they took off the garments that the 
woman had lent them and stood amid the 
jostling petitioners of the Queen in their own 
English frocks and coats and hats and boots. 

“We want to see the Queen,” said Cyril; 
“ we come from the far Empire where the sun 
never sets ! ” 

A murmur of surprise and a thrill of excite- 
ment ran through the crowd. The door- 
porter spoke to a black man, he spoke to 
some one else. There was a whispering, wait- 
ing pause. Then a big man, with a cleanly- 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


141 


shaven face, beckoned them from the top of 
a flight of red marble steps. 

They went up ; the boots of Robert clatter- 
ing more than usual because he was so 
nervous. A door swung open, a curtain was 
drawn back. A double line of bowing forms 
in gorgeous raiment formed a lane that led to 
the steps of the throne, and as the children 
advanced hurriedly there came from the 
throne a voice very sweet and very kind. 

“ Three children from the land where the 
sun never sets ! Let them draw hither 
without fear.” 

In another minute they were kneeling at 
the throne’s foot, saying, “ Oh, Queen, live for 
ever!” exactly as the woman had taught them. 
And a splendid dream-lady, all gold and silver 
and jewels and snowy drift of veils, was 
raising Anthea, and saying — 

“ Don’t be frightened, I really am so glad 
you came ! The land where the sun never 
sets ! I am delighted to see you ! I was 
getting quite too dreadfully bored for any- 
thing ! ” 

And behind Anthea the kneeling Cyril whis- 
pered in the ear of the respectful Robert — 

“ Bobs, don’t say anything to Panther. It’s 
no use upsetting her, but we didn’t ask for 
Jane’s address, and the Psammead’s with 
her.” 

“ Well,” whispered Robert, “ the charm can 
bring them to us at any moment. It said so.” 

“ Oh, yes,” whispered Cyril, in miserable 



“ THREE CHILDREN FROM THE LAND WHERE THE SUN NEVER SETS ! ” 


THE WAY TO BABYLON 


143 


derision, “ were all right of course. So we 
are ! Oh, yes ! If we’d only got the charm.” 

Then Robert saw, and he murmured, 
“ Crikey ! ” at the foot of the throne of 
Babylon ; while Cyril hoarsely whispered the 
plain English fact — 

“ Jane’s got the charm round her neck, you 
silly cuckoo.” 

“ Crikey ! ” Robert repeated in heart-broken 
undertones. 


CHAPTER VII 


“ THE DEEPEST DUNGEON BELOAV THE CASTLE 
MOAT ” 

The Queen threw three of the red and gold 
embroidered cushions of the throne down on 
to the marble steps that led up to it. 

“ Just make yourselves comfortable there,” 
she said. “ I’m simply dying to talk to you, 
and to hear all about your wonderful country 
and how you got here, and everything, hut I 
have to do justice every morning. Such a 
bore, isn’t it ? Do you do justice in your own 
country ? ” 

“ No,” said Cyril ; “at least of course we try 
to, but not in this public sort of way, only in 
private.” 

“ Ah, yes,” said the Queen, “ I should much 
prefer a private audience myself — much easier 
to manage. But public opinion has to be con- 
sidered. Doing justice is very hard work, 
even when you’re brought up to it.” 

“We don’t do justice, but we have to do 
scales, Jane and me,” said Anthea, “ twenty 
minutes a day. It’s simply horrid.” 

144 


“THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


145 


“ What are scales ? ” asked the Queen, “ and 
what is Jane? ” 

“ Jane is my little sister. One of the 
guards-at-the-gate’s wife is taking care of 
her. And scales are music.” 

“ I never heard of the instrument,” said the 
Queen. “ Do you sing ? ” 

“ Oh, yes. We can sing in parts,” said 
Anthea. 

“ That is magic,” said the Queen. “ How 
many parts are you each cut into before you 
do it ? ” 

“We aren’t cut at all,” said Robert hastily. 
“ We couldn’t sing if we were. We’ll show 
you afterwards.” 

“ So you shall, and now sit quiet like dear 
children and hear me do justice. The way I 
do it has always been admired. I oughtn’t 
to say that, ought I? Sounds so conceited. 
But I don’t mind with you, dears. Somehow 
I feel as though I’d known you quite a long 
time already.” 

The Queen settled herself on her throne and 
made a signal to her attendants. The children, 
whispering together among the cushions on 
the steps of the throne, decided that she was 
very beautiful and very kind, but perhaps 
just the least bit flighty. 

The first person who came to ask for justice 
was a woman whose brother had taken the 
money the father had left for her. The 
brother said it was the uncle who had the 
money. There was a good deal of talk and 
10 


146 


THE AMULET 


the children were growing rather bored, when 
the Queen suddenly clapped her hands, and 
said — 

“ Put both the men in prison till one of 
them owns up that the other is innocent.” 

“But suppose they both did it?” Cyril 
could not help interrupting. 

“Then prison’s the best place for them,” 
said the Queen. 

“ But suppose neither did it.” 

“ That’s impossible,” said the Queen ; “ a 
thing’s not done unless some one does it. And 
you mustn’t interrupt.” 

Then came a woman, in tears, with a torn 
veil and real ashes on her head — at least 
Anthea thought so, hut it may have been 
only road-dust. She complained that her 
husband was in prison. 

“ What for ? ” said the Queen. 

“ They said it was for speaking evil of your 
Majesty,” said the woman, “ but it wasn’t. 
Some one had a spite against him. That was 
what it was.” 

“ How do you know he hadn’t spoken evil 
of me ? ” said the Queen. 

“No one could,” said the woman simply, 
“ when they’d once seen your beautiful face.” 

“ Let the man out,” said the Queen, smiling. 
“ Next case.” 

The next case was that of a boy who had 
stolen a fox. “ Like the Spartan boy,” 
whispered Robert. But the Queen ruled that 
nobody could have any possible reason for 


THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


147 


owning a fox, and still less for stealing one. 
And she did not believe that there were any 
foxes in Babylon ; she, at any rate, had never 
seen one. So the boy was released. 

The people came to the Queen about all 
sorts of family quarrels and neighbourly 
misunderstandings- — from a fight between 
brothers over the division of an inheritance, 
to the dishonest and unfriendly conduct of a 
woman who had borrowed a cooking-pot at 
the last New Year’s festival, and not returned 
it yet. 

And the Queen decided everything, very, 
very decidedly indeed. At last she clapped 
her hands quite suddenly and with extreme 
loudness, and said — 

“ The audience is over for to-day.” 

Every one said, “ May the Queen live for 
ever ! ” and went out. 

And the children were left alone in the 
justice-hall with the Queen of Babylon and 
her ladies. 

“ There ! ” said the Queen, with a long sigh 
of relief. “ That's over ! I couldn’t have 
done another stitch of justice if you’d ofPered 
me the crown of Egypt ! Now come into the 
garden, and we’ll have a nice, long, cosy 
talk.” 

She led them through long, narrow corridors 
whose walls, they somehow felt, were very, 
very thick, into a sort of garden courtyard. 
There were thick shrubs closely planted, and 
roses were trained over trellises, and made a 


148 


THE AMULET 

pleasant shade — needed, indeed, for already 
the sun was as hot as it is in England in 
August at the seaside. 

Slaves spread cushions on a low, marble 
terrace, and a big man with a smooth face 
served cool drink in cups of gold studded 
with beryls. He drank a little from the 
Queen’s cup before handing it to her. 

“That’s rather a nasty trick,” whispered 
Robert, who had been carefully taught never 
to drink out of one of the nice, shiny, metal 
cups that are chained to the London drink- 
ing fountains without first rinsing it out 
thoroughly. 

The Queen overheard him. 

“ Not at all,” said she. “ Ritti-Marduk is a 
very clean man. And one has to have some 
one as taster, you know, because of poison.” 

The word made the children feel rather 
creepy ; but Ritti-Marduk had tasted all the 
cups, so they felt pretty safe. The drink was 
delicious —very cold, and tasting partly like 
lemonade and partly like penny ices. 

“Leave us,” said the Queen. And all the 
Court ladies, in their beautiful, many-folded, 
many-coloured, fringed dresses, filed out 
slowly, and the children were left alone with 
the Queen. 

“ Now,” she said, “ tell me all about your- 
selves.” 

They looked at each other. 

“ You, Bobs,” said Cyril. 

“ No — Anthea,” said Robert. 


“THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


149 


“No — you — Cyril,” said Anthea. “Don’t 
you remember how pleased the Queen of 
India was when you told her all about us ? ” 
Cyril muttered that it was all very well, 
and so it was. For when he had told the 
tale of the Phoenix and the Carpet to the 
Ranee, it had been only the truth — and all 
the truth that he had to tell. But now it 
was not easy to tell a convincing story 
without mentioning the Amulet — which, of 
course, it wouldn’t have done to mention — 
and without owning that they were really 
living in London, about two thousand five 
hundred years later than the time they were 
talking in. 

Cyril took refuge in the tale of the Psam- 
mead and its wonderful power of making 
wishes come true. The children had never 
been able to tell any one before, and Cyril 
was surprised to find that the spell which 
kept them silent in London did not work 
here. “ Something to do with our being in 
the Past, I suppose,” he said to himself. 

“ This is most interesting,” said the Queen. 
“We must have this Psammead for the ban- 
quet to-night. Its performance will be one 
of the most popular turns in the whole pro- 
gramme. Where is it ? ” 

Anthea explained that they did not know ; 
also why it was that they did not know. 

“ Oh, that's quite simple,” said the Queen, 
and every one breathed a deep breath of 
i-elief as she said it. “ Ritti-Marduk shall 


150 


THE AMULET 


run down to the gates and find out which 
guard your sister went home with.” 

“ Might he ” — Anthea’s voice was tremulous 
— “might he— would it interfere with his 
meal-times, or anything like that, if he went 
now ^ ” 

“ Of course he shall go now. He may think 
himself lucky if he gets his meals at any 
time,” said the Queen heartily, and clapped 
her hands. 

“ May I send a letter ? ” asked Cyril, pulling 
out a red-backed, penny account-book, and 
feeling in his pockets for a stump of pencil 
that he Unewi was in one of them. 

“ By all means. I’ll call my scribe.” 

“ Oh, I can scribe right enough, thanks,” 
said Cyril, finding the pencil and licking its 
point. He even had to bite the wood a little, 
for it was very blunt. 

“Oh, you clever, clever boy!” said the 
Queen. “ Do let me watch you do it ! ” 

Cyril wrote on a leaf of the book — it was 
of rough, woolly paper, with hairs that stuck 
out and would have got in his pen if he had 
been using one, and ruled for accounts. 

“ Hide IT most carefully before you come 
here,” he wrote, “and don’t mention it — and 
destroy this letter. Everything is going Al. 
The Queen is a fair treat. There’s nothing to 
be afraid of.” 

“ What curious characters, and what a 
strange, fiat surface 1 ” said the Queen. 
“ What have you inscribed ? ” 


“THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


151 


“ I’ve ’scribed,” replied Cyril cautiously, 
“ that you are fair, and a — and like a— like 
a festival; and that she need not be afraid, 
and that she is to come at once.” 

Ritti-Marduk, who had come in and had 
stood waiting while Cyril wrote, his Baby- 
lonish eyes nearly starting out of his 
Babylonish head, now took the letter, with 
some reluctance. 

“ Oh, Queen, live for ever ! Is it a charm ?” 
he timidly asked. “ A strong charm, most 
great lady?” 

“ Yes,” said Robert, unexpectedly, “it is a 
charm, but it won’t hurt any one until 
you’ve given it to Jane. And then she’ll 
destroy it, so tliat it cant hurt any one. 
It’s most awful strong ! — as strong as — Pep- 
permint ! ” he ended abruptly. 

“ I know not the god,” said Ritti-Marduk, 
bending timorously. 

“ She’ll tear it up directly she gets it,” said 
Robert. “ That’ll end the charm. You needn’t 
be afraid if you go now.” 

Ritti-Marduk went, seeming only partly 
satisfied ; and then the Queen began to 
admire the penny account-book and the bit 
of pencil in so marked and significant a way 
that Cyril felt he could not do less than press 
them upon her as a gift. She ruffled the leaves 
delightedly. 

“ What a wonderful substance ! ” she said. 
“And with this style you make charms? 
Make a charm for me ! Do you know,” her 


152 


THE AMULET 


voice sank to a whisper, “the names of the 
great ones of your own far country ? ” 

“ Rather ! ” said Cyril, and hastily wrote 
the names of Alfred the Great, Shakespeare, 
Nelson, Gordon, Lord Beaconsfield, Mr. Rud- 
yard Kipling, and Mr. Sherlock Holmes, 
while the Queen watched him with “ un- 
baited breath,” as Anthea said afterwards. 

She took the book and hid it reverently 
among the bright folds of her gown. 

“You shall teach me later to say the great 
names,” she said. “ And the names of their 
Ministers — perhaps the great Nisroch is one of 
them?” 

“ I don’t think so,” said Cyril. “ Mr. Camp- 
bell Bannerman’s Prime Minister and Mr. 
Burns’ a Minister, and so is the Archbishop 
of Canterbury, I think, but I’m not sure — and 

Dr. Parker was one, I know, and ” 

“No more,” said the Queen, putting her 
hands to her ears. “ My head’s going round 
with all those great names. You shall teach 
them to me later — because of course you’ll 
make us a nice long visit now you have 
come, won’t you? Now tell me — but no, I 
am quite tired out with your being so clever. 
Besides, I’m sure you’d like me to tell you 
something, wouldn’t you ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Anthea. “ I want to know how 

it is that the King has gone ” 

“ Excuse me, but you should say ‘ the King 
may-he-live-for-ever,’ ” said the Queen gently. 
“I beg your pardon,” Anthea hastened to 


“THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


153 


say — “ the King may-he-live-for-ever has gone 
to fetch home his fourteenth wife ? I don’t 
think even Bluebeard had as many as that. 
And, besides, he hasn’t killed you at any 
rate.” 

The Queen looked bewildered. 

“ She means,” explained Robert, “ that Eng- 
lish kings only have one wife — at least, Henry 
the Eighth had seven or eight, but not all at 
once.” 

“In our country,” said the Queen scornfully, 
“ a king would not reign a day who had only 
one wife. No one would respect him, and 
quite right too.” 

“ Then are all the other thirteen alive ? ” 
asked Anthea. 

“Of course they are — poor, mean-spirited 
things ! I don’t associate with them, of 
course. I’m the Queen. They’re only the 
wives.” 

“ I see,” said Anthea, gasping. 

“But oh, my dears,” the Queen went on, 
“ such a to-do as there’s been about this last 
wife! You never did! It really was too 
funny. We wanted an Egyptian princess. 
The King may-he-live-for-ever has got a wife 
from most of the important nations, and he 
had set his heart on an Egyptian one to com- 
plete his collection. Well, of course, to begin 
with, we sent a handsome present of gold. 
The Egyptian king sent back some horses — 
quite a few; he’s fearfully stingy !— and he 
said he liked the gold very much, but what 


154 


THE AMULET 


they were really short of was lapis lazuli, so 
of course we sent him some. But by that 
time he’d begun to use the gold to cover the 
beams of the roof of the Temple of the Sun- 
God, and he hadn’t nearly enough to finish the 
job, so we sent more. And so it went on, oh, 
for years. You see each journey takes at least 
six months. And at last we asked the hand 
of his daughter in marriage.” 

“ Yes, and then ? ” said Anthea, who wanted 
to get to the princess part of the story. 

“Well, then,” said the Queen, “when he’d 
got everything out of us that he could, and 
only given the meanest presents in return, he 
sent to say he would esteem the honour of 
an alliance very highly, only unfortunately he 
hadn’t any daughter, but he hoped one would 
be born soon, and if so, she should certainly 
be reserved for the King of Babylon ! ” 

“ What a trick ! ” said Cyril. 

“Yes, wasn’t it? So then we said his sister 
would do, and then there were more gifts and 
more journeys ; and now at last the tiresome, 
black-haired thing is coming, and the King 
may-he-live-for-ever has gone seven days’ 
journey to meet her at Carchemish. And 
he’s gone in his best chariot, the one inlaid 
with lapis lazuli and gold, with the gold-plated 
wheels and onyx-studded hubs — much too 
great an honour, in my opinion. She’ll be 
here to-night ; there’ll be a grand banquet to 
celebrate her arrival. She won’t be present, 
of course. She’ll be having her baths and her 


“THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


155 


anointings, and all that sort of thing. We 
always clean our foreign brides very care- 
fully. It takes two or three weeks, Now it’s 
dinner-time, and you shall eat with me, for I 
can see that you are of high rank.” 

She led them into a dark, cool hall, with 
many cushions on the floor. On these they 
sat, and low tables were brought — beautiful 
tables of smooth, blue stone mounted in gold. 
On these, golden trays were placed ; but there 
were no knives, or forks, or spoons. The 
children expected the Queen to call for them ; 
but no. She just ate with her Angers, and as 
the first dish was a great tray of boiled corn, 
and meat and raisins all mixed up together, 
and melted fat poured all over the tray, it 
was found difficult to follow her example 
with anything like what we are used to think 
of as good table manners. There were stewed 
quinces afterwards, and dates in syrup, and 
thick yellowy cream. It was the kind of 
dinner you hardly ever get in Fitzroy 
Street. 

After dinner everybody went to sleep, even 
the children. 

The Queen awoke with a start. 

“Good gracious!” she cried, “what a time 
we’ve slept ! I must rush off and dress for 
the banquet. I shan’t have much more than 
time.” 

“ Hasn’t Ritti-Marduk got back with our 
sister and the Psammead yet?” Anthea 
asked. 


156 


THE AMULET 


“ I quite forgot to ask. I’m sorry,” said the 
Queen. “ And of course they wouldn’t an- 
nounce her unless I told them to, except 
during justice hours. I expect she’s waiting 
outside. I’ll see.” 

Kitti-Marduk came in a moment later. 

“ I regret,” he said, “ that I have been 
unable to find your sister. The beast she 
bears with her in a basket has bitten the 
child of the guard, and your sister and the 
beast set out to come to you. The police say 
they have a clue. No doubt we shall have 
news of her in a few weeks.” He bowed and 
withdrew. 

The horror of this threefold loss — Jane, the 
Psammead, and the Amulet — gave the chil- 
dren something to talk about while the Queen 
was dressing. I shall not report their con- 
versation ; it was very gloomy. Every one 
repeated itself several times, and the dis- 
cussion ended in each of them blaming the 
other two for having let Jane go. You know 
the sort of talk it was, don’t you? At last 
Cyril said — 

“ After all, she’s with the Psammead, so she's 
all right. The Psammead is jolly careful of 
itself too. And it isn’t as if we were in any 
danger. Let’s try to buck up and enjoy the 
banquet.” 

They did enjoy the banquet. They had a 
beautiful bath, which was delicious, were 
heavily oiled all over, including their hair, 
and that was most unpleasant. Then they 


^‘THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


157 


dressed again and were presented to the 
King, who was most affable. The banquet 
was long ; there were all sorts of nice things 
to eat, and everybody seemed to eat and 
drink a good deal. Every one lay on 
cushions and couches, ladies on one side and 
gentlemen on the other ; and after the eating 
was done each lady went and sat by some 
one gentleman, who seemed to be her sweet- 
heart or her husband, for they were very 
affectionate to each other. The Court dresses 
had gold threads woven in them, very bright 
and beautiful. 

The middle of the room was left clear, and 
different people came and did amusing things. 
There were conjurers and jugglers and snake- 
charmers, which last Anthea did not like 
at all. 

When it got dark torches were lighted. 
Cedar splinters dipped in oil blazed in copper 
dishes set high on poles. 

Then there was a dancer, who hardly 
danced at all, only just struck attitudes. 
She had hardly any clothes, and was not at 
all pretty. The children were rather bored 
by her, but every one else was delighted, 
including the King. 

“By the beard of Nimrod!” he cried, 
“ ask what you like, girl, and you shall have 
it!” 

“ I want nothing,” said the dancer ; “ the 
honour of having pleased the King-may-he- 
live-for-ever is reward enough for me.” 






“THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


169 


And the King was so pleased with this 
modest and sensible reply that he gave her 
the gold collar off his own neck. 

“ I say ! ” said Cyril, awed by the magni- 
ficence of the gift. 

“ It’s all right,” whispered the Queen, “ it’s 
not his best collar by any means. We always 
keep a stock of cheap jewellery for these 
occasions. And now — you promised to sing 
us something. Would you like my minstrels 
to accompany you ? ” 

“No, thank you,” said Anthea quickly. 
The minstrels had been playing off and on 
all the time, and their music reminded 
Anthea of the band she and the others had 
once had on the fifth of November — with 
penny horns, a tin whistle, a tea tray, the 
tongs, a policeman’s rattle, and a toy drum. 
They had enjoyed this band very much at 
the time. But it was quite different when 
some one else was making the same kind of 
music. Anthea understood now that Father 
had not been really heartless and unreason- 
able when he had told them to stop that 
infuriating din. 

“ What shall we sing ? ” Cyril was asking. 

“ Sweet and low ? ” suggested Anthea. 

“ Too soft — I vote for ‘ Who will o’er the 
downs.’ Now then — one, two, three.” 

“ Oh, who will o’er the downs so free, 

Oh, who will with me ride, 

Oh, who will up and follow me, 

To win a blooming bride? 


160 


THE AMULET 


Her father he has locked the door, 

Her mother keeps the key ; 

But neither bolt nor bar shall keep 
My own true love from me.” 

Jane, the alto, was missing, and Robert, 
unlike the mother of the lady in the song, 
never could “ keep the key,” but the song, 
eve<n so, was sufficiently unlike anything 
any of them had ever heard to rouse the 
Babylonian Court to the wildest enthusiasm. 

“ More, more,” cried the King ; “ by my 
beard, this savage music is a new thing. 
Sing again ! ” 

So they sang : — 

“ I saw her bower at twilight gray, 

’Twas guarded safe and sure. 

I saw her bower at break of day, 

’Twas guarded then no more. 

The varlets they were all asleep. 

And there was none to see 
The greeting fair that passed there 
Between my love and me.” 

Shouts of applause greeted the ending of 
the verse, and the King would not be 
satisfied till they had sung all their part- 
songs (they only knew three) twice over, 
and ended up with “Men of Harlech” in 
unison. Then the King stood up in his 
royal robes with his high, narrow crown on 
his head and shouted — 

“By the beak of Nisroch, ask what you 


“THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


161 


will, strangers from the land where the sun 
never sets ! ” 

“We ought to say it’s enough honour, like 
the dancer did,” whispered Anthea. 

“ No, let’s ask for said Robert. 

“No, no, I’m sure the other’s manners,” 
said Anthea. But Robert, who was excited 
by the music, and the flaring torches, and 
the applause, and the opportunity, spoke up 
before the others could stop him. 

“ Give us the half of the Amulet that has 
on it the name Ur-Hekau‘ Setcheh,” he 
said, adding as an afterthought, “ O King, 
live for ever.” 

As he spoke the great name those in the 
pillared hall fell on their faces, and lay still. 
All but the Queen, who crouched amid her 
cushions with her head in her hands, and the 
King, who stood upright, perfectly still, like 
the statue of a king in stone. It was only 
for a moment though. Then his great voice 
thundered out — 

“ Guard, seize them ! ” 

Instantly, from nowhere as it seemed, 
sprang eight soldiers in bright armour in- 
laid with gold, and tunics of red and white. 
Very splendid they were, and very alarming. 

“ Impious and sacrilegious wretches ! ” 
shouted the King. “To the dungeons with 
them! We will And a way, to-morrow, to 
make them speak. For without doubt they 
can tell us where to And the lost half of It'’ 

A wall of scarlet and white and steel and 

11 




“THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


163 


gold closed up round the children and hurried 
them away among the many pillars of the 
great hall. As they went they heard the 
voices of the courtiers loud in horror. 

“ You’ve done it this time,” said Cyril with 
extreme bitterness. 

“ Oh, it will come right. It must. It 
always does,” said Anthea desperately. 

They could not see where they were going, 
because the guard surrounded them so closely, 
but the ground under their feet, smooth 
marble at first, grew rougher like stone, 
then it was loose earth and sand, and they 
felt the night air. Then there was more 
stone, and steps down. 

“ It’s my belief we really are going to the 
deepest dungeon below the castle moat this 
time,” said Cyril. 

And they were. At least it was not below 
a moat, but below the river Euphrates, which 
was just as bad if not worse. In a most un- 
pleasant place it was. Dark, very, very damp, 
and with an odd, musty smell rather like the 
shells of oysters. There was a torch — that is 
to say, a copper basket on a high stick with 
oiled wood burning in it. By its light the 
children saw that the walls were green, and 
that trickles of water ran down them and 
dripped from the roof. There were things 
on the floor that looked like newts, and in 
the darker corners creepy, shiny things 
moved sluggishly, uneasily, horribly. 

Robert’s heart sank right into those really 


164 


THE AMULET 


reliable boots of his. Anthea and Cyril each 
had a private struggle with that inside dis- 
agreeableness which is part of all of us, and 
which is sometimes called the Old Adam — and 
both were victors. Neither of them said to 
Robert (and both tried hard not even to think 
it), “This is your doing.” Anthea had the 
additional temptation to add, “ I told you so.” 
And she resisted it successfully. 

“ Sacrilege, and impious cheek,” said the 
captain of the guard to the gaoler.” “ To be 
kept during the King’s pleasure. I expect he 
means to get some pleasure out of them to- 
morrow ! He’ll tickle them up ! ” 

“ Poor little kids,” said the gaoler. 

“ Oh, yes,” said the captain. “ I’ve got kids 
of my own too. But it doesn’t do to let 
domestic sentiment interfere with one’s public 
duties. Good-night.” 

The soldiers tramped heavily off in their 
white and red and steel and gold. The 
gaoler, with a bunch of big keys in his hand, 
stood looking pityingly at the children. He 
shook his head twice and went out. 

“ Courage ! ” said Anthea. “ I know it will 
be all right. It’s only a dream really, you 
know. It must be ! I don’t believe about 
time being only a something or other of 
thought. It is a dream, and we’re bound to 
wake up all right and safe.” 

“ Humph,” said Cyril bitterly. And Robert 
suddenly said — 

“ It’s all my doing. If it really is all up do 


“THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


165 


please not keep a down on me about it, and 
tell Father Oh, I forgot.” 

What he had forgotten was that his Father 
was three thousand miles and five thousand 
or more years away from him. 

“ All right, Bobs, old man,” said Cyril ; and 
Anthea got hold of Robert’s hand and 
squeezed it. 

Then the gaoler came back with a platter 
of hard, flat cakes made of coarse grain, 
very different from the cream-and-juicy- 
date feasts of the palace ; also a pitcher of 
water. 

“ There,” he said. 

“ Oh, thank you so very much. You are 
kind,” said Anthea feverishly. 

“ Go to sleep,” said the gaoler, pointing to 
a heap of straw in a corner ; “ to-morrow 
comes soon enough.” 

“ Oh, dear Mr. Gaoler,” said Anthea, “ what- 
ever will they do to us to-morrow ? ” 

“ They’ll try to make you tell things,” said 
the gaoler grimly, “ and my advice is if you’ve 
nothing to tell, make up something. Then 
perhaps they’ll sell you to the Northern 
nations. Regular savages they are. Good- 
night.” 

“ Good-night,” said three trembling voices, 
which their owners strove in vain to render 
firm. Then he went out, and the three were 
left alone in the damp, dim vault. 

“ I know the light won’t last long,” said 
Cyril, looking at the flickering brazier. 


160 


THE AMULET 


“ Is it any good, do you think, calling on 
the name when we haven’t got the charm ? ” 
suggested Anthea. 

“ I shouldn’t think so. But we might try.” 

So they tried. But the blank silence of the 
damp dungeon remained unchanged. 

“ What was that name the Queen said ? ” 
asked Cyril suddenly. “ Nisbeth — Nesbit — 
something? You know, the slave of the 
great names ? ” 

“ Wait a sec,” said Cyril, “ though I don’t 
know why you want it. Nusroch — Nisrock — 
Nisroch — That’s it.” 

Then Anthea pulled herself together. All 
her muscles tightened, and the muscles of her 
mind and soul, if you can call them that, 
tightened too. 

“ Ur-Hekau Setcheh,” she cried in a 
fervent voice. “ Oh, Nisroch, servant of the 
Great Ones, come and help us ! ” 

There was a waiting silence. Then a cold, 
blue light awoke in the corner where the 
straw was — and in the light they saw coming 
towards them a strange and terrible figure. 
I won’t try to describe it, because Mr. Millar 
will draw it for you, exactly as it was, and 
exactly as the old Babylonians carved it on 
their stones, so that you can see it in our own 
British Museum at this day. I will just say 
that it had eagle’s wings and an eagle’s head 
and the body of a man. 

It came towards them, strong and unspeak- 
ably horrible. 


“THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


167 


“ Oh, go away,” cried Anthea ; but Cyril 
cried, “No; stay!” 

The creature hesitated, then bowed low 
before them on the damp floor of the dungeon. 

“ Speak,” it said, in a harsh, grating voice 
like large rusty keys being turned in locks. 
“The servant of the Great Ones is your 
servant. What is your need that you call 
on the name of Nisroch?” 

“We want to go home,” said Robert. 

“ No, no,” cried Anthea ; “ we want to be 
where Jane is.” 

Nisroch raised his great arm and pointed at 
the wall of the dungeon. And, as he pointed, 
the wall disappeared, and instead of the damp, 
green, rocky surface, there shone and glowed 
a room with rich hangings of red silk em- 
broidered with golden water-lilies, with 
cushioned couches, and great mirrors of 
polished steel ; and in it was the Queen, and 
before her, on a red pillow, sat the Psam- 
mead, its fur hunched up in an irritated, 
discontented way. On a blue-covered couch 
lay Jane, fast asleep. 

“ Walk forward without fear,” said Nisroch. 
“ Is there aught else that the Servant of the 
great Name can do for those who speak that 
name ? ” 

« No — oh, 710,” said Cyril. “ It’s all right 
now. Thanks ever so.” 

“You are a dear,” cried Anthea, not in the 
least knowing what she was saying. “Oh, 
thank you — thank you. But do go now ! ” 




NISROCH RAISED HIS GREAT ARM AND POINTED AT THE WALL OF THE DUNGEC 



“THE DEEPEST DUNGEON 


169 


She caught the hand of the creature, and 
it was cold and hard in hers, like a hand of 
stone. 

“ Go forward,” said Nisroch. And they 
went. 

“ Oh, my good gracious,” said the Queen as 
they stood before her. “How did you get 
here ? I hneio you were magic. I meant to 
let you out the first thing in the morning, if 
I could slip away — but, thanks be to Dagon, 
you’ve managed it for yourselves. You must 
get away. I’ll wake my chief lady and she 
shall call Ritti-Marduk, and he’ll let you out 
the back way, and ” 

“ Don’t rouse anybody for goodness’ sake,” 
said Anthea, “ except Jane, and I’ll rouse 
her.” 

She shook Jane with energy, and Jane 
slowly awoke. 

“ Ritti-Marduk brought them in hours ago, 
really,” said the Queen, “ but I wanted to 
have the Psammead all to myself for a bit. 
You’ll excuse the little natural deception ? — 
it’s part of the Babylonish character, don’t 
you know? But I don’t want anything to 
happen to you. Do let me rouse some one.” 

“No, no, no, no,” said Anthea with desperate 
earnestness. She thought she knew enough 
of what the Babylonians were like when they 
were roused. “We can go by our own magic. 
And you will tell the King it wasn’t the 
gaoler’s fault. It was Nisroch.” 


170 


THE AMULET 


“Nisroch!” echoed the Queen. “You are 
indeed magicians.” 

Jane sat up, blinking stupidly. 

“ Hold It up, and say the word,” cried Cyril, 
catching up the Psammead, which mechani- 
cally bit him, but only very slightly. 

“ Which is the East?” asked Jane. 

“ Behind me,” said the Queen. “ Why ? ” 

“Ur-Hekau Setcheh,” said Jane sleepily, 
and held up the charm. 

And there they all were, in the dining-room 
at 300 Fitzroy Street. 

V Jane,” said Cyril with great presence of 
mind, “ go and get the plate of sand down for 
the Psammead. 

Jane went. 

“ Look here ! ” he said quickly, as the sound 
of her boots grew less loud on the stairs, 
“ don’t let’s tell her about the dungeon and all 
that. It’ll only frighten her so that she’ll 
never want to go anywhere else.” 

“ Righto ! ” said Cyril ; but Anthea felt that 
she could not have said a word to save her 
life. 

“ Why did you want to come back in such 
a hurry?” asked Jane, returning with the 
plate of sand. “ It was awfully jolly in 
Babylon, I think ! I liked it no end.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Cyril carelessly. “ It was 
jolly enough, of course, but I thought we’d 
been there long enough. Mother always says 
you oughtn’t to wear out your welcome ! ” 



HOLD IT UP, AND SAY THE WORD,” CRIED CYRIL. 



CHAPTER YIII 

THE QUEEN IN LONDON 

“Now tell US what happened to you,” said 
Cyril to Jane, when he and the others had 
told her all about the Queen’s talk and the 
banquet, and the variety entertainment, care- 
fully stopping short before the beginning of 
the dungeon part of the story. 

“It wasn’t much good going,” said Jane, “if 
you didn’t even try to get the Amulet.” 

“We found out it was no go,” said Cyril; 
“it’s not to be got in Babylon. It was lost 
before that. We’ll go to some other jolly 
friendly place, where every one is kind and 
pleasant, and look for it there. Now tell 
about your part.” 

“ Oh,” said Jane, “ the Queen’s man with 
the smooth face — what was his name?” 

“ Ritti-Marduk,” said Cyril. 

“Yes,” said Jane, “Ritti-Marduk, he came 
for me just after the Psammead had bitten 
the guard-of-the-gate’s wife’s little boy, and he 
took me to the Palace. And we had supper 
with the new little Queen from Egypt. She 

172 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


173 


is aij dear — not much older than you. She 
told me heaps about Egypt. And we played 
ball after supper. And then the Babylon 
Queen sent for me. I like her too. And she 
talked to the Psammead and I went to sleep. 
And then you woke me up. That’s all.” 

The Psammead, roused from its sound sleep, 
told the same story. 

“But,” it added, what possessed you to tell 
that Queen that I could give wishes ? I some- 
times think you were born without even the 
most rudimentary imitation of brains.” 

The children did not know the meaning of 
rudimentary, but it sounded a rude, insulting 
word. 

“ I don’t see that we did any harm,” said 
Cyril sulkily. 

“Oh, no,” said the Psammead with withering 
irony, “ not at all ! Of course not ! Quite the 
contrary ! Exactly so ! Only she happened 
to wish that she might soon find herself in 
your country. And soon may mean any 
moment.” 

“ Then it’s your fault,” said Robert, “because 
you might just as well have made ‘soon’ 
mean some moment next year or next 
century.” 

“That’s where you, as so often happens, 
make the mistake,” rejoined the Sand-fairy. 
“/ couldn’t mean anything but what she 
meant by ‘soon.’ It wasn’t my wish. And 
what she meant was the next time the King 
happens to go out lion-hunting. So she’ll 


174 


THE AMULET 


have a whole day, and perhaps two, to do as 
she wishes with. She doesn’t know about 
time only being a mode of thought.” 

“Well,” said Cyril, with a sigh of resignation, 
“ we must do what we can to give her a good 
time. She was jolly decent to us. I say, 
suppose we were to go to St. James’s Park 
after dinner and feed those ducks that we 
never did feed. After all that Babylon and 
all those years ago, I feel as if I should like 
to see something real, and noiv. You’ll come, 
Psammead ? ” 

“ Where’s my priceless woven basket of 
sacred rushes?” asked the Psammead 
morosely. “ I can’t go out with nothing 
on. And I won’t, what’s more.” 

And then everybody remembered with pain 
that the bass bag had, in the hurry of 
departure from Babylon, not been re- 
membered. 

“ But it’s not so extra precious,” said 
Robert hastily. “ You get them given to you 
for nothing if you buy fish in Farringdon 
Market.” 

“ Oh,” said the Psammead very crossly 
indeed, “so you presume on my sublime 
indifference to the things of this disgusting 
modern world, to fob me off with a travel- 
ling equipage that costs you nothing. Very 
well, I shall go to sand. Please don’t wake 
me.” 

And it went then and there to sand, which, 
as you know, meant to bed. The boys went 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


175 


to St. James’s Park to feed the ducks, but 
they went alone. 

Anthea and Jane sat sewing all the after- 
noon. They cut off half a yard from each of 
their best green Liberty sashes. A towel cut 
in two formed a lining ; and they sat and 
sewed and sewed and sewed. What they 
were making was a bag for the Psammead. 
Each worked at a half of the bag. Jane’s 
half had four-leaved shamrocks embroidered 
on it. They were the only things she could 
do (because she had been taught how at 
school, and, fortunately, some of the silk she 
had been taught with was left over). And 
even so, Anthea had to draw the pattern for 
her. Anthea’s side of the bag had letters on 
it — worked hastily but affectionately in chain 
stitch. They were something like this : — 



She would have put “ travelling carriage,” 
but she made the letters too big, so there was 
no room. The bag was made into a bag with 
old Nurse’s sewing machine, and the strings 


176 


THE AMULET 


of it were Anthea’s and Jane’s best red hair 
ribbons. 

At tea-time, when the boys had come home 
with a most unfavourable report of the 
St. James’s Park ducks, Anthea ventured to 
awaken the Psammead, and to show it its 
new travelling bag. 

“ Humph,” it said, sniffing a little contemp- 
tuously, yet at the same time affectionately, 
“it’s not so dusty.” 

The Psammead seemed to pick up very 
easily the kind of things that people said 
nowadays. For a creature that had in its 
time associated with Megatheriums and 
Pterodactyls, its quickness was really 
wonderful. 

“It’s more worthy of me,” it said, “than 
the kind of bag that’s given away with a 
pound of plaice. When do you propose to 
take me out in it?” 

“ I should like a rest from taking you 
or us anywhere,” said Cyril. But Jane 
said — 

“I want to go to Egypt. I did like that 
Egyptian Princess that came to marry the 
King in Babylon. She told me about the 
larks they have in Egypt. And the cats. 
Do let’s go there. And I told her what th^ 
bird things on the Amulet were like. And 
she said it was Egyptian writing.” 

The others exchanged looks of silent re- 
joicing at the thought of their cleverness 
in having concealed from Jane the terrors 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


177 


they had suffered in the dungeon below 
the Euphrates. 

“Egypt’s so nice too,” Jane went on, 
“ because of Doctor Brewer’s Scripture 
History. I would like to go there when 
Joseph was dreaming those curious dreams, 
or when Moses was doing wonderful things 
with snakes and sticks.” 

“ I don’t care about snakes,” said Anthea 
shuddering. 

“Well, we needn’t be in at that part, but 
Babylon was lovely! We had cream and 
sweet, sticky stuff. And I expect Egypt’s the 
same.” 

There was a good deal of discussion, but it 
all ended in everybody’s agreeing to Jane’s 
idea. And next morning directly after break- 
fast (which was kippers, and very nice) the 
Psammead was invited to get into his 
travelling carriage. 

The moment after it had done so, with stiff, 
furry reluctance, like that of a cat when you 
want to nurse it, and its ideas are not the 
same as yours, old Nurse came in. 

“ Well, chickies,” she said, “ are you feeling 
very dull ? ” 

“ Oh, no. Nurse dear,” said Anthea ; “ we’re 
having a lovely time. We’re just going off 
to see some old, ancient relics.” 

“ Ah,” said old Nurse, “ the Royal Academy, 
I suppose ? Don’t you go wasting your money 
too reckless, that’s all.” 

She cleared away the kipper bones and the 

12 


178 


THE AMULET 


tea-things, and when she had swept up the 
crumhs and removed the cloth, the Amulet 
was held up and the order given — just as 
Duchesses (and other people) give it to their 
coachmen. 

“ To Egypt, please ! ” said Anthea, when 
Cyril had uttered the wonderful Name of 
Power. 

“When Moses was there,” added Jane. 

And there, in the dingy Fitzroy Street 
dining-room, the Amulet grew big, and it 
was an arch, and through it they saw a 
blue, blue sky and a running river. 

“No, stop!” said Cyril, and pulled down 
Jane’s hand with the Amulet in it. 

“What silly cuckoos we all are,” he said. 
“Of course we can’t go. We daren’t leave 
home for a single minute now, for fear that 
minute should be the minute.” 

“ What minute be what minute ? ” asked 
Jane impatiently, trying to get her hand 
away from Cyril. 

“ The minute when the Queen of Babylon 
comes,” said Cyril. And then every one 
saw it. 

For some days life flowed in a very slow, 
dusty, uneventful stream. The children could 
never go out all at once, because they never 
knew when the King of Babylon would go 
out lion hunting and leave his Queen free to 
pay them that surprise visit to which she 
was, without doubt, eagerly looking forward. 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


179 


So they took it in turns, two and two, to go 
out and to stay in. 

The stay-at-homes would have been much 
duller than they were but for the new 
interest taken iii them by the learned 
gentleman. 

He called Anthea in one day to show her a 
beautiful n<ecklace of purple and gold beads. 

“ I saw one like that,” she said, “ in ” 

“ In the British Museum, perhaps ? ” 

“ I like to call the place where I saw it 
Babylon,” said Anthea cautiously. 

“ A pretty fancy,” said the learned gentle- 
man, “ and quite correct too, because, as a 
matter of fact, these beads did come from 
Babylon.” 

The other three were all out that day. The 
boys had been going to the Zoo, and Jane had 
said so plaintively, “ I’m sure I am fonder of 
rhinoceroses than either of you are,” that 
Anthea had told her to run along then. And 
she had run, catching the boys before that 
part of the road where Fitzroy Street 
suddenly becomes Fitzroy Square. 

“ I think Babylon is most frightfully in- 
teresting,” said Anthea. “I do have such 
interesting dreams about it — at least, not 
dreams exactly, but quite as wonderful.” 

“Do sit down and tell me,” said he. So she 
sat down and told. And he asked her a lot 
of questions, and she answered them as well 
as she could. 

“Wonderful — wonderful!” he said at last. 


180 


THE AMULET 


“ One’s heard of thought-transference, but I 
never thought / had any power of that sort. 
Yet it must be that, and very bad for you, I 
should think. Doesn’t your head ache very 
much ? ” 

He suddenly put a cold, thin hand on her 
forehead. 

“ No, thank you, not at all,” said she. 

“ I assure you it is not done intentionally,” 
he went on. “ Of course I know a good deal 
about Babylon, and I unconsciously com- 
municate it to you ; you’ve heard of thought- 
reading, but some of the things you say, I 
don’t understand ; they never entered my head, 
and yet they’re so astoundingly probable.” 

“It’s all right,” said Anthea reassuringly. 
“ I understand. And don’t worry. It’s all 
quite simple really.” 

It was not quite so simple when Anthea, 
having heard the others come in, went down^ 
and before she had had time to ask how 
they had liked the Zoo, heard a noise outside, 
compared to which the wild beasts’ noises 
were gentle as singing birds. 

“ Good gracious ! ” cried Anthea, “ what’s 
that?” 

The loud hum of many voices came 
through the open window. Words could be 
distinguished. 

“ ’Ere’s a guy ! ” 

“This ain’t November. That ain’t no guy. 
It’s a ballet lady, that’s what it is.” 

Not it it s a bloomin’ looney, I tell you.” 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


181 


Then came a clear voice that they knew. 

“ Retire, slaves ! ” it said. 

“What’s she a saying of?” cried a dozen 
voices. 

“ Some blamed foreign lingo,” one voice 
replied. 

The children rushed to the door. A crowd 
was on the, road and pavement. 

In the middle of the crowd, plainly to be 
seen from the top of the steps, were the 
beautiful face and bright veil of the Baby- 
lonian Queen. 

“Jimminy!” cried Robert, and ran down 
the steps, “ here she is ! ” 

“ Here ! ” he cried, “ look out — let the lady 
pass. She’s a friend of ours, coming to 
see us.” 

“Nice friend for a respeckable house,” 
snorted a fat woman with marrows on a 
hand-cart. 

All the same the crowd made way a little. 
The Queen met Robert on the pavement, 
and Cyril joined them, the Psammead bag 
still on his arm.” 

“ Here,” he whispered ; “ here’s the Psam- 
mead ; you can get wishes.” 

“ I wish you’d come in a different dress, if 
you had to come,” said Robert ; “ but it’s no 
use my wishing anything.” 

“No,” said the Queen. “I wish I was 
dressed— no, I don’t — I wish they were 
dressed properly, then they wouldn’t be so 
silly.” 


182 


THE AMULET 


The Psammead blew itself out till the bag 
was a very tight fit for it ; and suddenly 
every man, woman, and child in that crowd 
felt that it had not enough clothes on. For, 
of course, the Queen’s idea of proper dress 
was the dress that had been proper for the 
working-classes three thousand years ago in 
Babylon — and there was not much of it. 

“ Lawky me ! ” said the marrow-selling 
woman, “ whatever could a-took me to come 
out this figure?” and she wheeled her cart 
away very quickly indeed. 

“Some one’s made a pretty guy of you — 
talk of guys,” said a man who sold bootlaces. 

“Well, don’t you talk,” said the man next 
him. “ Look at your own silly legs ; and 
where’s your boots?” 

“I never come out like this. I’ll take my 
sacred,” said the bootlace-seller. “ I wasn’t 
quite myself last night. I’ll own, but not to 
dress up like a circus.” 

The crowd was all talking at once, and 
getting rather angry. But no one seemed to 
think of blaming the Queen. 

Anthea bounded down the steps and pulled 
her up ; the others followed, and the door 
was shut. 

“ Bio wed if I can make it out ! ” they heard. 
“ I’m off home, I am.” 

And the crowM, coming slowly to the same 
mind, dispersed, followed by another crowd 
of persons who were not dressed in what the 
Queen thought was the proper way. 



184 


THE AMULET 


“We shall have the police here directly,” 
said Anthea in the tones of despair. “ Oh, 
why did you come dressed like that ? ” 

The Queen leaned against the arm of the 
horse-hair sofa. 

“ How else can a queen dress I should like 
to know ? ” she questioned. 

“Our Queen wears things like other people,” 
said Cyril. 

“ Well, I don’t. And I must say,” she re- 
marked in an injured tone, “ that you don’t 
seem very glad to see me now I have come. 
But perhaps it’s the surprise that makes you 
behave like this. Yet you ought to be used 
to surprises. The way you vanished ! I shall 
never forget it. The best magic I’ve ever 
seen. How did you do it ? ” 

“Oh, never mind about that now,” said 
Robert. “ You see you’ve gone and upset 
all those people, and I expect they’ll fetch 
the police. And we don’t want to see you 
collared and put in prison.” 

“You can’t put queens in prison,” she said 
loftily. 

“Oh, can’t yovi?” said Cyril. “We cut off 
a king’s head here once.” 

“ In this miserable room ? How frightfully 
interesting.” 

“ No, no, not in this room ; in history.” 

“ Oh, in that,"' said the Queen disparagingly. 
“I thought you’d done it with your own 
hands.” 

The girls shuddered. 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


185 


“ What a hideous city yours is,” the Queen 
went on pleasantly, “ and what horrid, 
ignorant people. Do you know they actually 
can’t understand a single word I say.” 

“ Can you understand them? ” asked Jane. 

“ Of course not ; they speak some vulgar. 
Northern dialect. I can understand you 
quite well.” 

I really am not going to explain again how 
it was that the children could understand 
other languages than their own so thoroughly, 
and talk them, too, so that it felt and sounded 
(to them) just as though they were talking 
English. 

“Well,” said Cyril bluntly, “now you’ve 
seen just how horrid it is, don’t you think 
you might as well go home again?” 

“ Why, I’ve seen simply nothing yet,” said ^ 
the Queen, arranging her starry veil. “ I 
wished to be at your door, and I was. Now 
I must go and see your King and Queen.” 

“ Nobody’s allowed to,” said Anthea in 
haste ; “ but look here, we’ll take you and 
show you anything you’d like to see — any- 
thing you can see,” she added kindly, because 
she remembered now nice the Queen had 
been to them in Babylon, even if she had 
been a little deceitful in the matter of Jane 
and the Psammead. 

“There’s the Museum,” said Cyril hope- 
fully ; “ there are lots of things from your 
country there. If only we could disguise you 
a little.” 


186 


THE AMULET 


“ I know,” said Antliea suddenly. “ Mother’s 
old theatre-cloak, and there are a lot of her 
old hats in the big box.” 

The blue-silk, lace-trimmed cloak did 
indeed hide some of the Queen’s startling 
splendours, but the hat fitted very badly. 
It had pink roses in it ; and there was some- 
thing about the coat or the hat or the 
Queen, that made her look somehow not 
very respectable. 

“ Oh, never mind,” said Anthea, when 
Cyril whispered this. “ The thing is to get 
her out before Nurse has finished her forty 
winks. I should think she’s about got to 
the thirty-ninth wink by now.” 

“ Come on then,” said Robert. “ You 
know how dangerous it is. Let’s make 
haste into the Museum. If any of those 
people you made guys of do fetch the police, 
they won’t think of looking for you there.” 

The hlue-silk cloak and the pink-rosed hat 
attracted almost as much attention as the 
royal costume had done ; and the children 
were uncommonly glad to get out of the 
noisy streets into the gray quiet of the 
Museum. 

“ Parcels and umbrellas to be left here,” 
said a man at the counter. The party had 
no umbrellas, and the only parcel was the 
bag containing the Psammead, which the 
Queen had insisted should be brought. 

“/’m not going to be left,” said the 
Psammead softly, “so don’t you think it.” 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


187 


“I’ll wait outside with you,” said Anthea 
hastily, and went to sit on the seat near the 
drinking fountain. 

“ Don’t sit so near that nasty fountain,” 
said the creature crossly ; “ I might get 
splashed.” 

Anthea obediently moved to another seat 
and waited. Indeed she waited, and waited, 
and waited, and waited, and waited. The 
Psammead dropped into an uneasy slumber. 
Anthea had long ceased to watch the swing- 
door that always let out the wrong person, 
and was herself almost asleep, and still the 
others did not come back. 

It was with quite a start that Anthea 
suddenly realised that they had come back, 
and that they were not alone. Behind them 
was quite a crowd of men in uniform, and 
several gentlemen were there. Every one 
seemed very angry. 

“ Now go,” said the nicest of the angry 
gentlemen. “Take the poor, demented thing 
home and tell your parents she ought to be 
properly looked after.” 

“ If you can’t get her to go we must send 
for the police,” said the nastiest gentleman. 

“ But we don’t wish to use harsh measures,” 
added the nice one, who was really very 
nice indeed, and seemed to be over all the 
others. 

“May I speak to my sister a moment 
first?” asked Robert. 

The nicest gentleman nodded, and the 


188 


THE AMULET 


officials stood round the Queen, and the 
others forming a sort of guard while 
Robert crossed over to Anthea. 

“Everything you can think of,” he replied 
to Anthea’s glance of inquiry. “ Kicked up 
the most frightful shine in there. Said those 
necklaces and earrings and things in the 
glass cases were all hers — would have them 
out of the cases. Tried to break the glass — 
she did break one bit ! Everybody in the 
place has been at her. No good. I only got 
her out by telling her that was the place 
where they cut queens’ heads off. 

“ Oh, Bobs, what a whacker ! ” 

“ You’d have told a whackinger one to get 
her out. Besides it wasn’t. I meant mummy 
queens. How do you know they don’t cut 
off mummies’ heads to see how the embalm- 
ing is done? What I want to say is, can’t 
you get her to go with you quietly ? ” 

“ I’ll try,” said Anthea, and went up to the 
Queen. 

“ Do come home,” she said ; “ the learned 
gentleman in our house has a much nicer 
necklace than anything they’ve got here. 
Come and see it.” 

The Queen nodded. 

“You see,” said the nastiest gentleman, 
“ she does understand English.” 

“I was talking Babylonian, I think,” said 
Anthea bashfully. 

“My good child,” said the nice gentleman, 
“what you’re talking is not Babylonian, but 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


189 


nonsense. You just go home at once, and tell 
your parents exactly what has happened.” 

Anthea took the Queen’s hand and gently 
pulled her away. The other children followed, 
and the hlack crowd of angry gentlemen stood 
on the steps watching them. It was when 
the little party of disgraced children, with the 
Queen who had disgraced them, had reached 
the middle of the courtyard that her eyes fell 
on the hag where the Psammead was. She 
stopped short. 

“ I wish,” she said very loud and clear, “ that 
all those Babylonian things would come out 
to me here — slowly, so that those dogs and 
slaves can see the working of the great 
Queen’s magic.” 

“ Oh, you are a tiresome woman,” said the 
Psammead in its bag, but it puffed itself out. 

Next moment there was a crash. The glass 
swing-doors and all their framework were 
smashed suddenly and completely. The crowd 
of angry gentlemen sprang aside when they 
saw what had done this. But the nastiest of 
them was not quick enough, and he was 
roughly pushed out of the way by an enor- 
mous stone hull that was floating steadily 
through the door. It came and stood beside 
the Queen in the middle of the courtyard. 

It was followed by more stone images, by 
great slabs of carved stone, bricks, helmets, 
tools, weapons, fetters, wine- jars, howls, 
bottles, vases, jugs, saucers, seals, and the 
round, long things, something like rolling pins 




IT WAS FOLLOWED BY MOKE STONE IMAGES, 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


191 


with marks on them like the print of little 
bird-feet, necklaces, collars, rings, armlets, 
earrings — heaps and heaps and heaps of 
things, far more than any one had time to 
count, or even to see distinctly. 

All the angry gentlemen had abruptly sat 
down on the Museum steps except the nice 
one. He stood with his hands in his pockets 
just as though he was quite used to seeing 
great stone bulls and all sorts of small Baby- 
ionish objects float out into the Museum yard. 
But he sent a man to close the big iron gates. 

A journalist, who was just leaving the 
museum, spoke to Robert as he passed. 

“ Theosophy, I suppose ? ” he said. “ Is she 
Mrs. Besant?” 

“ Yes,” said Robert recklessly. 

The journalist passed through the gates 
just before they were shut. He rushed off to 
Fleet Street, and his paper got out a new 
edition within half an hour. 

“MRS. BESANT AND THEOSOPHY. 

“Impertinent Miracle at the British 
Museum.” 

People saw it in fat, black letters on the 
boards carried by the sellers of newspapers. 
Some few people who had nothing better to 
do went down to the Museum on the tops of 
omnibuses. But by the time they got there 
there was nothing to be seen. For the Baby- 


192 


THE AMULET 


Ionian Queen had suddenly seen the closed 
gates, had felt the threat of them, and had 
said — 

“ I wish we were in your house.” 

And, of course, instantly they were. 

The Psammead was furious. 

“Look here,” it said, “they’ll come after 
you, and they’ll find me. There’ll be a National 
Cage built for me at Westminster, and I shall 
have to work at politics. Why wouldn’t you 
leave the things in their places ? ” 

“ What a temper you have, haven’t you ? ” 
said the Queen serenely. “ I wish all the 
things were back in their places. Will that 
do for you?” 

The Psammead swelled and shrank and 
spoke very angrily. 

“ I can’t refuse to give your wishes,” it said, 
but I can Bite. x4.nd I will if this goes on. 
Now then.” 

“Ah, don’t,” wispered Anthea close to its 
bristling ear ; “ it’s dreadful for us too. Don’t 
you desert us. Perhaps she’ll wish herself at 
home again soon.” 

“ Not she,” said the Psammead a little less 
crossly. 

“ Take me to see your City,” said the Queen. 

The children looked at each other. 

“ If we had some money we could take her 
about in a cab. People wouldn’t notice her so 
much then. But we haven’t.” 

“ Sell this,” said the Queen, taking a ring 
from her finger. 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


193 


“They’d only think we’d stolen it,” said 
Cyril bitterly, “and put us in prison.” 

“ All roads lead to prison with you, it 
seems,” said the Queen. 

“ The learned gentleman ! ” said Anthea, 
and ran up to him with the ring in her hand. 

“Look here,” she said, “will you buy this 
for a pound?” 

“ Oh ! ” he said in tones of joy and amaze- 
ment, and took the ring into his hand. 

“ It’s my very own,” said Anthea ; “it was 
given to me to sell.” 

“I’ll lend you a pound,” said the learned 
gentleman, “ with pleasure ; and I’ll take care 
of the ring for you. Who did you say gave it 
to you ? ” 

“We call her,” said Anthea carefully, “the 
Queen of Babylon.” 

“ Is it a game?” he asked hopefully. 

“ It’ll be a pretty game if I don’t get 
the money to pay for cabs for her,” said 
Anthea. 

“ I sometimes think,” he said slowly, “ that 
I am becoming insane, or that ” 

“ Or that I am ; but I’m not, and you’re not, 
and she’s not.” 

“Does she say that she’s the Queen of 
Babylon ? ” he uneasily asked. 

“Yes,” said Anthea recklessly. 

“ This thought-transference is more far- 
reaching than I imagined,” he said. “ I 
suppose I have unconsciously influenced her, 
too. I never thought my Babylonish studies 
13 



“ i’ll lend you a pound,” said the learned 

GENTLEMAN. 



THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


195 


would bear fruit like this. Horrible ! There 
are more things in heaven and earth ” 

“ Yes,” said Anthea, “heaps more. And the 
pound is the thing I want more than anything 
on earth.” 

He ran his fingers through his thin hair. 

“ This thought-transference ! ” he said. “It’s 
undoubtedly a Babylonian ring — or it seems 
so to me. But perhaps I have hypnotised 
myself. I will see a doctor the moment I 
have corrected the last proofs of my book.” 

“Yes, do!” said Anthea, “and thank you 
so very much.” 

She took the sovereign and ran down to the 
others. 

And now from the window of a four-wheeled 
cab the Queen of Babylon beheld the wonders 
of London. Buckingham Palace she thought 
uninteresting ; Westminster Abbey and the 
Houses of Parliament were little better. 
But she liked the Tower, and the river, 
and the ships filled her with wonder and 
delight. 

“ But how badly you keep your slaves. 
How wretched and poor and neglected they 
seem,” she said, as the cab rattled along the 
Mile End Road. 

“ They aren’t slaves ; they’re working- 
people,” said Jane. 

“ Of course they’re working-people. That’s 
what slaves are. Don’t you tell me. Do 
you suppose I don’t know a slave’s face when 
I see it? Why don’t their masters see that 


196 


THE AMULET 


they’re better fed and better clothed? Tell 
me in three words.” 

No one answered. The wage-system of 
modern England is a little difficult to explain 
in three words even if you understand it — 
which the children didn’t. 

“You’ll have a revolt of your slaves if 
you’re not careful,” said the Queen. 

“ Oh, no,” said Cyril ; “ you see they have 
votes — that makes them safe not to revolt. 
It makes all the difference. Father told me 
so.” 

“ What is this vote ? ” asked the Queen. “ Is 
it a charm ? What do they do with it ? ” 

“I don’t know,” said the harassed Cyril; 

“ it’s just a vote, that’s all ! They don’t do 
anything particular with it.” 

“ I see,” said the Queen ; “ a sort of play- 
thing. Well, I wish that all these slaves may 
have in their hands this moment their full 
of their favourite meat and drink.” 

Instantly all the people in the Mile End 
Road, and in all the other streets where poor 
people live, found their hands full of things 
to eat and drink. From the cab window 
could be seen persons carrying every kind of 
food, and bottles and cans as well. Roast 
meat, fowls, red lobsters, great yellowy crabs, 
fried fish, boiled pork, beef-steak puddings, 
baked onions, mutton pies ; most of the young 
people had oranges and sweets and cake. It 
made an enormous change in the look of the 
Mile End Road — brightened it up, so to speak, 



ALL THE PEOPLE IN THAT STREET FOUND THEIR HANDS FULL OF THINGS 

TO EAT AND DRINK. 



198 


THE AMULET 


and brightened up, more than you can possibly 
imagine, the faces of the people. 

“Makes a difference, doesn’t it?” said the 
Queen. 

“ That’s the best wish you’ve had yet,” said 
Jane with cordial approval. 

Just by the Bank the cabman stopped. 

“I ain’t agoin’ to drive you no further,” he 
said. “ Out you gets.” 

They got out rather unwillingly. 

“ I wants my tea,” he said ; and they saw 
that on the box of the cab was a mound of 
cabbage, with pork chops and apple sauce, 
a duck, and a spotted currant pudding. Also 
a large can. 

“You pay me my fare,” he said threaten- 
ingly, and looked down at the mound, 
muttering again about his tea. 

“We’ll take another cab,” said Cyril with 
dignity. “ Give me change for a- sovereign, if 
you please.” 

But the cabman, as it turned out, was not at 
all a nice character. He took the sovereign, 
whipped up his horse, and disappeared in the 
stream of cabs and omnibuses and wagons, 
without giving them any change at all. 

Already a little crowd was collecting round 
the party. 

“ Come on,” said Robert, leading the wrong 
way. 

The crowd round them thickened. They 
were in a narrow street where many gentle- 
men in black coats and without hats were 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 199 

standing about on the pavement talking very 
loudly. 

“ How ugly their clothes are,” said the 
Queen of Babylon. “They’d be rather fine 
men, some of them, if they were dressed 
decently, especially the ones with the beautiful 
long, curved noses. I wish they were dressed 
like the Babylonians of my court. 

And, of course, it was so. 

The moment the almost fainting Psammead 
had blown itself out . every man in Throg- 
morton Street appeared abruptly in Baby- 
lonian full dress. 

All were carefully powdered, their hair 
and beards were scented and curled, their 
garments richly embroidered. They wore 
rings and armlets, flat gold collars and swords, 
and impossible-looking head-dresses. 

A stupefied silence fell on them. 

“ I say,” a youth who had always been fair 
haired broke that silence, “ it’s only fancy of 
course — something wrong with my eyes — but 
you chaps do look so rum.” 

“Rum,” said his friend, “Look at you. You 
in a sash ! My hat ! And your hair’s gone 
black and you’ve got a beard. It’s my belief 
we’ve been poisoned. You do look a jackape.” 

“Old Levinstein don’t look so bad. But 
how was it done — that’s what I want bo 
know. How teas it done? Is it conjuring, 
or what?” 

“ I think it is chust a ver’ bad tream, ” said 
old Levinstein to his clerk ; “ all along 


200 


THE AMULET 


Bishopsgate I haf seen the gommon people 
have their hants full of food — goot food. 
Oh, yes, without toubt a very bad tream ! ” 

“ Then I’m dreaming too, sir,” said the clerk, 
looking down at his legs with an expression 
of loathing. “ I see my feet in beastly sandals 
as plain as plain.” 

“All that goot food wasted,” said old Mr. 
Levinstein. “ A bad tream — a bad tream.” 

The Members of the Stock Exchange are 
said to he at all times a noisy lot. But the 
noise they made now to express their disgust 
at the costumes of ancient Babylon, was far 
louder than their ordinary row. One had to 
shout before one could hear oneself speak. 

“I only wish,” said the clerk who thought 
it was conjuring — he was quite close to the 
children and they trembled, because they 
knew that whatever he wished would come 
true. “ I only wish we knew who’d done it.” 

And, of course, instantly they did know, and 
they pressed round the Queen. 

“ Scandalous ! Shameful ! Ought to be 
put down by law. Give her in charge. Fetch 
the police,” two or three hundred voices 
shouted at once. 

The Queen recoiled. 

“ What is it ? ” she asked. “ They sound like 
caged lions — lions by the thousand. What is 
it that they say ? ” 

“ They say ‘ Police ! ’ ” said Cyril briefly. “ I 
knew they would, sooner or later. And I 
don’t blame them, mind you.” 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


201 


“ I wish my guards were here ! ” cried the 
Queen. The exhausted Psammead was pant- 
ing and trembling, but the Queen’s guards in 
red and green garments, and brass and iron 
gear, choked Throgmorton Street, and bared 
weapons flashed round the Queen. 

“ I’m mad,” said a Mr. Eosenbaum ; “ dat’s 
what it is — mad ! ” 

“ It’s a judgment on you, Eosy,” said his 
partner. “I always said you were too hard 
in that matter of Flowerdew. It’s a judgment, 
and I’m in it too.” 

The members of the Stock Exchange had 
edged carefully away from the gleaming 
blades, the mailed figures, the hard, cruel 
Eastern faces. But Throgmorton Street is 
narrow, and the crowd was too thick for 
them to get away as quickly as they wished. 

“Kill them,” cried the Queen. “Kill the 
dogs ! ” 

The guards obeyed. 

“It is all a dream,” cried Mr. Levinstein, 
cowering in a doorway behind his clerk. 

“ It isn’t,” said the clerk. “ It isn’t. Oh, my 
good gracious ! those foreign brutes are 
killing everybody. Henry Hirsh is down 
now, and Prentice is cut in two — oh. Lord ! 
and Huth, and there goes Lionel Cohen with 
his head off, and Guy Nickalls has lost his 
head now. A dream ? I wish to goodness 
it was all a dream.” 

And, of course, instantly it was ! The entire 
Stock Exchange rubbed its eyes and went 


202 


THE AMULET 


back to close, to over, and either side of seven- 
eights, and Trunks, and Kaffirs, and Steel 
Common, and Contangoes, and Backwarda- 
tions, Double Options, and all the interesting 
subjects concerning which they talk in the 
Street without ceasing. 

No one said a word about it to any one else. 

I think I have explained before that business 
men do not like it to be known that they 
have been dreaming in business hours. 
Especially mad dreams including such 
dreadful things as hungry people getting 
dinners, and the destruction of the Stock 
Exchange. 

The children were in the dining-room at 
300, Fitzroy Street, pale and trembling. The 
Psammead crawled out of the embroidered 
bag, and lay flat on the table, its legs 
stretched out, looking more like a dead 
hare than anything else. 

“ Thank Goodness that’s over,” said Anthea, 
drawing a deep breath. 

“She won’t come back, will she?” asked 
Jane tremulously. 

“No,” said Cyril. “She’s thousands of years 
ago. But we spent a whole precious pound 
on her. It’ll take all our pocket-money for 
ages to pay that back.” 

“Not if it was all a dream,” said Robert- 
“ The wish said all a dream, you know, 
Panther; you cut up and ask if he lent you 
anything.” 


THE QUEEN IN LONDON 


203 


“ I beg your pardon,” said Anthea politely, 
following the sound of her knock into the 
presence of the learned gentleman, “I’m so 
sorry to trouble you, but did you lend me 
a pound to-day?” 

“No,” said he, looking kindly at her through 
his spectacles. “ But it’s extraordinary that 
you should ask me, for I dozed for a few 
moments this afternoon, a thing I very rarely 
do, and I dreamed quite distinctly that you 
brought me a ring that you said belonged to 
the Queen of Babylon, and that I lent you a 
sovereign, and that you left one of the Queen’s 
rings here. The ring was a magnificent 
specimen.” He sighed. “ I wish it hadn’t 
been a dream,” he said smiling. He was 
really learning to smile quite nicely. 

Anthea could not be too thankful that the 
Psammead was not there to grant his wish. 


CHAPTER IX 

ATLANTIS 

You will understand that the adventure of 
the Babylonian Queen in London was the 
only one that had occupied any time at all. 
But the children’s time was very fully taken 
up by talking over all the wonderful things 
seen and done in the Past, where, by the 
power of the Amulet, they seemed to spend 
hours and hours, only to find when they got 
back to London that the whole thing had 
been briefer than a lightning fiash. 

They talked of the Past at their meals, in 
their walks, in the dining-room, in the first- 
floor drawing-room, but most of all on the 
stairs. It was an old house ; it had once 
been a fashionable one, and was a fine one 
still. The banister rails of the stairs were 
excellent for sliding down, and in the corners 
of the landings were big alcoves that had once 
held graceful statues, and now quite often 
held the graceful forms of Cyril, Robert, 
Anthea, and Jane. 

One day Cyril and Robert in tight white 

204 


ATLANTIS 


205 


underclothing had spent a pleasant hour in 
reproducing the attitudes of statues seen 
either in the British Museum, or in Father’s 
big photograph book. But the show ended 
abruptly because Robert wanted to be the 
Venus of Milo, and for this purpose pulled at 
the sheet which served for drapery at the 
very moment when Cyril, looking really quite 
like the Discobolus — with a gold and white 
saucer for the disc — was standing on one foot, 
and under that one foot was the sheet. 

Of course the Discobolus and his disc and 
the would-be Venus came down together, and 
every one was a good deal hurt, especially the 
saucer, which would never be the same again, 
however neatly one might join its eight 
uneven bits with seccotine or the white of 
an egg. 

“ I hope you’re satisfied,” said Cyril, holding 
his head where a large lump was rising. 

“ Quite, thanks,” said Robert bitterly. His 
thumb had caught in the banisters and bent 
itself back almost to breaking point. 

“I am so sorry, poor, dear Squirrel,” said 
Anthea ; “and you were looking so lovely. I’ll 
get a wet rag. Bobs, go and hold your hand 
under the hot-water tap. It’s what ballet 
girls do with their legs when they hurt them. 
I saw it in a book.” 

“ What book ? ” said Robert disagreeably. 
But he went. 

When he came back Cyril’s head had been 
bandaged by his sisters, and he had been 


206 


THE amulet 


brought to the state of mind where he was 
able reluctantly to admit that he supposed 
Robert hadn’t done it on purpose. 

Robert replying with equal suavity/ Anthea 
hastened to lead the talk away from the 
accident. 

“I suppose you don’t feel like going any- 
where through the Amulet,” she said. 

“ Egypt ! ” said Jane promptly. “ I want to 
see the pussy cats.” 

“Not me — too hot,” said Cyril. “It’s about 
as much as I can stand here — let alone 
Egypt.” It was indeed hot, even on the 
second landing, which is the coolest place in 
the house. “ Let’s go *to the North Pole.” 

“ I don’t suppose the Amulet was ever there 
— and we might get our fingers frost-bitten 
so that we could never hold it up to get home 
again. No, thanks,” said Robert. 

“ I say,” said Jane, “ let’s get the Psammead 
and ask its advice. It will like us asking, 
even if we don’t take it.” 

The Psammead was brought up in its green 
silk embroidered bag, but before it could be 
asked anything the door of the learned 
gentleman’s room opened and the voice of 
the visitor who had been lunching with him 
was heard on the stairs. He seemed to be 
speaking with the door handle in his hand. 

“You see a doctor, old boy,” he said ; “all 
that about thought-transference is just simply 
twaddle. You’ve been over- working. Take a 
holiday. Go to Dieppe.” 


Atlantis 


207 


“ I’d rather go to Babylon,” said the learned 
gentleman. 

“I wish you’d go to Atlantis some time, 
while we’re about it, so as to give me some 
tips for my Nineteenth Century article when 
you come home.” 

“I wish I could,” said the voice of the 
learned gentleman. 

“ Goodbye. Take care of yourself.” 

The door was banged, and the visitor came 
smiling down the stairs — a stout, prosperous, 
big man. The children had to get up to let 
him pass. 

“ Hullo, Kiddies,” he said, glancing at the 
bandages on the head of Cyril and the hand 
of Robert, “ been in the wars ? ” 

“ It’s all right,” said Cyril. “ I say, what 
was that Atlantic place you wanted him to 
go to? We couldn’t help hearing you talk.” 

“You talk so very loud, you see,” said Jane 
soothingly. 

“ Atlantis,” said the visitor, “ the lost 
Atlantis, garden of the Hesperides. Great 
continent — disappeared in the sea. You can 
read about it in Plato.” 

“ Thank you,” said Cyril doubtfully. 

“Were there any Amulets there?” asked 
Anthea, made anxious by a sudden thought. 

“ Hundreds, I should think. So hes been 
talking to you?” 

“Yes, often. He’s very kind to us. We like 
him awfully.” 

“ Well, what he wants is a holiday ; you 


208 


THE AMULET 


persuade him to take one. What he wants 
is a change of scene. You see, his head is 
crusted so thickly inside with knowledge 
about Egypt and Assyria and things that 
you can’t hammer anything into it unless you 
keep hard at it all day long for days and days. 
And I haven’t time. But you live in the 
house. You can hammer almost incessantly. 
Just try your hands, will you ? Right. So 
long ! ” 

He went down the stairs three at a time, 
and Jane remarked that he was a nice man, 
and she thought he had little girls of his own. 

“ I should like to have them to play with,” 
she added pensively. 

The three elder ones exchanged glances. 
Cyril nodded. 

“ All right. Let's go to Atlantis,” he said. 

“ Let’s go to Atlantis and take the learned 
gentleman with us,” said Anthea ; “ he’ll think 
it’s a dream, afterwards, hut it’ll certainly be a 
change of scene.” 

“ Why not take him to nice Egypt ? ” asked 
Jane. 

“ Too hot,” said Cyril shortly, 
i “ Or Babylon, where he wants to go ? ” 

“ I’ve had enough of Babylon,” said Robert, 
“at least for the present. And so have the 
others. I don’t know why,” he added, fore- 
stalling the question on Jane’s lips, “ but 
somehow we have. ' Squirrel, let’s take off 
these beastly bandages and get into flannels. 
We can’t go in our unders.” 


ATLANTIS 


209 


“ He loished to go to Atlantis, so he’s got to 
go some time ; and he might as well go with 
us,” said Anthea. 

This was how it was that the learned 
gentleman, permitting himself a few moments 
of relaxation in his chair, after the fatigue 
of listening to opinions (about Atlantis and 
many other things) with which he did not 
at all agree, opened his eyes to find his four 
young friends standing in front of him in 
a row. 

“Will you come,” said Anthea, “ to Atlantis 
with us ? ” 

“To know that you are dreaming shows 
that the dream is nearly at an end,” he 
told himself ; “ or perhaps it’s only a game, 
like ‘ How many miles to Babylon ? ’ ” 

So he said aloud : “ Thank you very much, 
but I have only a quarter of an hour to 
spare.” 

“ It doesn’t take any time,” said Cyril ; 
“ time is only a mode of thought, you know, 
and you’ve got to go some time, so why not 
with us ? ” 

“Very well,” said the learned gentleman, 
now quite certain that he was dreaming. 

Anthea held out her soft, pink hand. He 
took it. She pulled him gently to his feet. 
Jane held up the Amulet. 

“ To just outside Atlantis,” said Cyril, and 
Jane said the Name of Power. 

“ You owl ! ” said Robert, “ it’s an island. 
Outside an island’s all water.” 

14 


210 


THE AMULET 


“ I won’t go. I wont,'' said the Psammead, 
kicking and struggling in its bag. 

But already the Amulet had grown to a 
great arch. Cyril pushed the learned gentle- 
man, as undoubtedly the first-born, through 
the arch —not into water, but on to a wooden 
floor, out of doors. The others followed. The 
Amulet grew smaller again, and there they 
all were, standing on the deck of a ship whose 
sailors were busy making her fast with chains 
to rings on a white quay-side. The rings and 
the chains were of a metal that shone red- 
yellow like gold. 

Every one on the ship seemed too busy 
at first to notice the group of new-comers 
from Fitzroy Street. Those who seemed to 
be officers were shouting orders to the 
men. 

They stood and looked across the wide quay 
to the town that rose beyond it. What they 
saw was the most beautiful sight any of them 
had ever seen — or ever dreamed of. 

The blue sea sparkled in soft sunlight ; little 
white-capped waves broke softly against the 
marble breakwaters that guarded the shipping 
of a great city from the wildness of winter 
winds and seas. The quay was of marble, 
white and sparkling with a veining bright as 
gold. The city was of marble, red and white. 
The greater buildings that seemed to be 
temples and palaces were roofed with what 
looked like gold and silver, but most of the 
roofs were of copper that glowed golden-red 


ATLANTIS 


211 


on the houses on the hills among which the 
city stood, and shaded into marvellous tints of 
green and blue and purple where they had 
been touched by the salt sea spray and the 
fumes of the dyeing and smelting works of 
the lower town. 

Broad and magnificent flights of marble 
stairs led up from the quay to a sort of 
terrace that seemed to run along for miles, 
and beyond rose the town built on a hill. 

The learned gentleman drew a long breath. 
“ Wonderful ! ” he said, “ wonderful ! ” 

“I say, Mr. — what’s your name,” said 
kobert. 

“ He means,” said Anthea, with gentle 
politeness, “ that we never can remember 
your name. I know it’s Mr. De Something.” 

“ When I was your age I was called Jimmy,” 
he said timidly. “Would you mind? I should 

feel more at home in a dream like this if I 

Anything that made me seem more like one of 
you.” 

“Thank you— Jimmy,” said Anthea with 
an effort. It seemed such cheek to be 
saying Jimmy to a grown-up man. “ Jimmy, 
dear,’^ she added, with no effort at all. Jimmy 
smiled and looked pleased. 

But now the ship was made fast, and the 
Captain had time to notice other things. He 
came towards them, and he was dressed in 
the best of all possible dresses for the sea- 
faring life. 

“ What are you doing here ? ” he asked 


212 


THE AMULET 


rather fiercely. “ Do you come to bless or to 
curse ? ” 

“ To bless, of course,” said Cyril. “ I’m 
sorry if it annoys you, but we’re here by 
magic. We come from the land of the 
sun-rising,” he went on explanatorily. 

“ I see,” said the Captain ; no one had 
expected that he would. “ I didn’t notice 
at first, but of course I hope you’re a 
good omen. It’s needed. And this,” he 
pointed to the learned gentleman, “ your 
slave, I presume ? ” 

“ Not at all,” said Anthea ; “ he’s a very 
great man. A sage, don’t they call it ? 
And we want to see all your beautiful city, 
and your temples and things, and then we 
shall go back, and he will tell his friend, 
and his friend will write a book about it.” 

“ What,” asked the Captain, fingering a 
rope, “ is a book ? ” 

“ A record — something written, or,” she 
added hastily, remembering the Babylonian 
writing, “ or engraved.” 

Some sudden impulse of confidence made 
Jane pluck the Amulet from the neck of 
her frock.” 

“ Like this,” she said. 

The Captain looked at it curiously, but the 
other three were relieved to notice, without 
any of that overwhelming interest which the 
mere name of it had roused in Egypt and 
Babylon. 

“ The stone is of our country,” he said ; “ and 



“the stone is op our country,” he said. 


214 


THE AMULET 


that which is engraved on it, it is like our 
writing, but I cannot read it. What is the 
name of your sage?” 

“ Ji — jimmy,” said Anthea hesitatingly. 

The Captain repeated “Ji — jimmy. Will 
you land?” he added. “And shall I lead 
you to the Kings?” , 

“ Look here,” said Robert, “ does your King 
hate strangers ? ” 

“ Our Kings are ten,” said the Captain, “ and 
the Royal line, unbroken from Poseidon, the 
father of us all, has the noble tradition to do 
honour to strangers if they come in peace.” 

“ Then lead on, please,” said Robert, “though 
I should like to see all over your beautiful 
ship, and sail about in her.” 

“ That shall be later,” said the Captain ; 
“just now we’re rather afraid of a storm — 
do you notice that odd rumbling ? ” 

“ That’s nothing, master,” said an old sailor 
who stood near ; “ it’s the pilchards coming in, 
that’s all.” 

“ Too loud,” said the Captain. 

There was a rather anxious pause ; then the 
Captain stepped on to the quay, and the 
others followed him. 

“ Do talk to him — Jimmy,” said Anthea as 
they went ; “ you can find out all sorts of 
things for your friend’s hook.” 

“ Please excuse me,” he said earnestly. “ If 
I talk I shall wake up ; and besides, I can’t 
understand what he says.” 

No one else could think of anything to say, 


ATLANTIS 


215 


so that it was in complete silence that they 
followed the Captain up the marble steps and 
through the streets of the town. There were 
streets and shops and houses and markets. 

“It’s just like Babylon,” whispered Jane, 
“ only everything’s perfectly different.” 

“It’s a great comfort the ten Kings have 
been properly brought up— to be kind to 
strangers,” Anthea whispered to Cyril. 

“ Yes,” he said, “ no deepest dungeons here.” 

There were no horses or chariots in the 
street, but there were handcarts and low 
trolleys running on thick log-wheels, and 
porters carrying packets on their heads, and 
a good many of the people were riding on 
what looked like elephants, only the great 
beasts were hairy, and they had not that mild 
expression we are accustomed to meet on the 
faces of the elephants at the Zoo. 

“ Mammoths ! ” murmured the learned 
gentleman, and stumbled over a loose stone. 

The people in the streets kept crowding 
round them as they went along, but the 
Captain always dispersed the crowd before 
it grew uncomfortably thick by saying — 

“Children of the Sun God and their High 
Priest — come to bless the City.” 

And then the people would draw back with 
a low murmur that sounded like a suppressed 
cheer. 

Many of the buildings were covered with 
gold, but the gold on the bigger buildings was 
of a different colour, and they had sorts of 


216 


THE AMULET 


steeples of burnished silver rising above 
them. 

“ Are all these houses real gold ? ” asked 
Jane. 

“ The temples are covered with gold, of 
course,” answered the Captain, “ but the 
houses are only oricalchum. It’s not quite 
so expensive.” 

The learned gentleman, now very pale, 
stumbled along in a dazed way, repeating : — 

“ Oricalchum — oricalchum.” 

“ Don’t be frightened,” said Anthea ; “ we 
can get home in a minute, just by holding up 
the charm. Would you rather go back now? 
We could easily come some other day without 
you.” 

“Oh, no, no,” he pleaded fervently; “let the 
dream go on. Please, please do.” 

“ The High Ji — jimmy is perhaps weary with 
his magic journey,” said the Captain, noticing 
the blundering walk of the learned gentle- 
man ; “ and we are yet very far from the 
Greali Temple, where to-day the Kings make 
sacrifice.” 

He stopped at the gate of a great enclosure. 
It seemed to be a sort of park, for trees 
showed high above its brazen wall. 

The party waited, and almost at once the 
Captain came back with one of the hairy 
elephants and begged them to mount. 

This they did. 

It was a glorious ride. The elephant at the 
Zoo — to ride on him is also glorious, but he 



IT WAS A GLORIOUS RIDE 



218 


THE AMULET 


goes such a very little way, and then he goes 
back again, which is always dull. But this 
great, hairy beast went on and on and on 
along streets and through squares and gar- 
dens. It was a glorious city ; almost every- 
thing was built of marble, red, or white, or 
black. Every now and then the party crossed 
a bridge. 

It was not till they had climbed to the hill 
which is the centre of the town that they saw 
that the whole city was divided into twenty 
circles, alternately land and water, and over 
each of the water circles were the bridges by 
which they had come. 

And now they were in a great square. A 
vast building filled up one side of it ; it was 
overlaid with gold, and had a dome of silver. 
The rest of the buildings round the square 
were of oricalchum. And it looked more 
splendid than you can possibly imagine, 
standing up bold and shining in the sun- 
light. 

“ You would like a bath,” said the Captain, 
as the hairy elephant went clumsily down on 
his knees. “ It’s customary, you know, before 
entering the Presence. We have baths for 
men, women, horses, and cattle. The High 
Class Baths are here. Our Father Poseidon 
gave us a spring of hot water and one of 
cold.” 

The children had never before bathed in 
baths of gold. 

“ It feels very splendid,” said Cyril, splashing. 


ATLANTIS 


219 


“ At least, of course, it’s not gold ; it’s ori- 
what’s it’s name,” said Kobert. “Hand over 
that towel.” 

The bathing hall had several great pools 
sunk below the level of the floor ; one went 
down to them by steps. 

“Jimmy,” said Anthea timidly, when, very 
clean and boiled looking, they all met in the 
flowery courtyard of the Public Baths, “ don’t 
you think all this seems much more like noro 

than Babyldh or Egypt ? Oh, I forgot, 

you’ve never been there.” 

“ 1 know a little of those nations, however,” 
said he, “ and I quite agree with you. A most 
discerning remark — my dear,” he added awk- 
wardly; “this city certainly seems to indicate 
a far higher level of civilisation than the 
Egyptian or Babylonish, and ” 

“ Follow me,” said the Captain. “ Now, boys, 
get out of the way.” He pushed through a 
little crowd of boys who were playing with 
dried chestnuts fastened to a string. 

“ Ginger ! ” remarked Robert, “ they’re play- 
ing conkers, just like the kids in Kentish 
Town Road!” 

They could see now that three walls sur- 
rounded the island on which they were. The 
outermost wall was of brass, the Captain told 
them ; the next, which looked like silver, was 
covered with tin ; and the innermost one was 
of orichalcum. 

And right in the middle was a wall of gold, 
with golden towers and gates. 


220 


THE AMULET 


“ Behold the Temple of Poseidon,” said the 
Captain. “ It is not lawful for me to enter. I 
will await your return here.” 

He told them what they ought to say, and 
the five people from Fitzroy Street took hands 
and went forward. The golden gates slowly 
opened. 

“We are the children of the Sun,” said 
Cyril, as he had been told, “ and our High 
Priest, at least that’s what the Captain calls 
him. We have a difPerent name for him at 
home.” 

“What is his name? ’’asked a white-robed 
man who stood in the doorway with his arms 
extended. 

“ Ji — jimmy,” replied Cyril, and he hesitated 
as Anthea had done. It really did seem to 
be taking a great liberty with so learned a 
gentleman. “And we have come to speak with 
your Kings in the Temple of Poseidon — does 
that word sound right ? ” he w’hispered 
anxiously. 

“ Quite,” said the learned gentleman. “ It’s 
very odd I can understand what you say to 
them, but not what they say to you.” 

“ The Queen of Babylon found that too,” 
said Cyril ; “ it’s part of the magic.” 

“ Oh, what a dream ! ” said the learned 
gentleman. 

The white-robed priest had been joined by 
others, and all were bowing low. 

“ Enter,” he said, “ enter. Children of the 
Sun, with your High Ji — jimmy.” 




222 


THE AMULET 


In an inner courtyard stood the Temple — 
all of silver, with gold pinnacles and doors, 
and twenty enormous statues in bright gold 
of men and women. Also an immense pillar 
of the other precious yellow metal. 

They went through the doors, and the priest 
led them up a stair into a gallery from which 
they could look down on to the glorious place. 

“ The ten Kings are even now choosing the 
bull. It is not lawful for me to behold,” said 
the priest, and fell face downward on the 
floor outside the gallery. The children looked 
down. 

The roof was of ivory adorned with the 
three precious metals, and the walls were 
lined with the favourite orichalcum. 

At the far end of the Temple was a statue- 
group, the like of which no one living has 
ever seen. 

It was of gold, and the head of the chief 
flgure reached to the roof. That figure was 
Poseidon, the Father of the City. He stood in 
a great chariot drawn by six enormous horses, 
and round about it were a hundred mermaids 
riding on dolphins. 

Ten men, splendidly dressed and armed 
only with sticks and ropes, were trying to 
capture one of some fifteen bulls who ran this 
way and that about the floor of the Temple. 
The children held their breath, for the bulls 
looked dangerous, and the great horned heads 
were swinging more and more wildly. 

Anthea did not like looking at the bulls. 


ATLANTIS 


223 


She looked about the gallery, arid noticed that 
another staircase led up from it to a still 
higher story ; also that a door led out into 
the open air, where there seemed to be a 
balcony. 

So that when a shout went up and Robert 
whispered, “Got him,” and she looked down 
and saw the herd of bulls being driven out of 
the Temple by whips, and the ten Kings 
following, one of them spurring with his stick 
a black bull that writhed and fought in the 
grip of a lasso, she answered the boy’s 
agitated, “ Now we shan’t see anything more,” 
with — 

“ Yes we can, there’s an outside balcony.” 

So they crowded out. 

But very soon the girls crept back. 

“ I don’t like sacrifices,” Jane said. So she 
and Anthea went and talked to the priest, 
who was no longer lying on his face, but 
sitting on the top step mopping his forehead 
with his robe, for it was a hot day. 

“ It’s a special sacrifice,” he said ; “ usually 
it’s only done on the justice days every five 
years and six years alternately. And then 
they drink the cup of wine with some of the 
bull’s blood in it, and swear to judge truly. 
And they wear the sacred blue robe, and put 
out all the Temple fires. But this to-day is 
because the City’s so upset by the odd noises 
from the sea, and the god inside the big 
mountain speaking with his thunder- voice. 
But all that’s happened so often before. If 


224 


THE AMULET 


anything could make me uneasy it wouldn’t 
be that.’' 

“What would it be?” asked Jane kindly. 

“ It would be the Lemmings.” 

“ Who are they — enemies ? ” 

“ They’re a sort of rat ; and every year they 
come swimming over from the country that 
no man knows, and stay here awhile, and 
then swim away. This year they haven’t 
come. You know rats won’t stay on a ship 
that’s going to be wrecked. If anything 
horrible were going to happen to us, it’s my 
belief those Lemmings would know ; and 
that may be why they’ve fought shy of us.” 

“ What do you call this country ? ” asked 
the Psammead, suddenly putting its head out 
of its bag. 

“ Atlantis,” said the priest. 

“ Then I advise you to get on to the highest 
ground you can find. I remember hearing 
something about a flood here. Look here, 
you ” — it turned to Anthea ; “ let’s get home. 
The prospect’s too wet for my whiskers.” 

The girls obediently went to find their 
brothers, who were leaning on the balcony 
railings. 

“ Where’s the learned gentleman ? ” asked 
Anthea. 

“ There he is — below,” said the priest, who 
had come with them. “ Your High Ji — jimmy 
is with the Kings.” 

The ten Kings were no longer alone. The 
learned gentleman — no one had noticed how 


ATLANTIS 


225 


he got there — stood with them on the steps 
of an altar, on which lay the dead body of the 
black bull. All the rest of the courtyard was 
thick with people, seemingly of all classes, 
and all were shouting : “ The sea — the sea ! ” 

“ Be calm,” said the most kingly of the 
Kings, he who had lassoed the bull. “ Our 
town is strong against the thunders of the 
sea and of the sky ! ” 

“ I want to go home,” whined the Psam- 
mead. 

“We can’t go without him,'' said Anthea 
firmly. 

“Jimmy,” she called, “Jimmy!” and 
waved to him. He heard her, and began to 
come towards her through the crowd. 

They could see from the balcony the sea- 
captain edging his way out from among the 
people. And his face was dead white, like 
paper. 

“To the hills ! ” he cried in a loud and 
terrible voice. And above his voice came 
another voice, louder, more terrible — the 
voice of the sea. 

The girls looked seaward. 

Across the smooth distance of the sea some- 
thing huge and black rolled towards the 
town. It was a wave, but a wave a hundred 
feet in height, a wave that looked like a 
mountain — a wave rising higher and higher 
till suddenly it seemed to break in two — one 
half of it rushed out to sea again ; the 
other 


15 


226 


THE AMULET 


“ Oh ! ” cried Anthea, “ the town — the poor 
people ! ” 

“It’s all thousands of years ago, really,” 
said Robert, but his voice trembled. They 
hid their eyes for a moment. They could not 
bear to look down, for the wave had broken 
on the face of the town, sweeping over the 
quays and docks, overwhelming the great 
storehouses and factories, tearing gigantic 
stones from forts and bridges, and using 
them as battering rams against temples. 
Great ships were swept over the roofs of the 
houses and dashed down half-way up the 
hill among ruined gardens and broken build- 
ings. The water ground brown fishing-boats 
to powder on the golden roofs of Palaces. 

Then the wave swept back towards the sea. 

“ I want to go home,” cried the Psammead 
fiercely. 

“ Oh, yes, yes ! ” said Jane, and the boys 
were ready — but the learned gentleman had 
not come. 

Then suddenly they heard him dash up to 
the inner gallery, crying — 

“ I must see the end of the dream.” He 
rushed up the higher flight. The others fol- 
lowed him. They found themselves in a sort 
of turret— roofed, but open to the air at the 
sides. 

The learned gentleman was leaning on the 
parapet, and as they rejoined him the vast 
wave rushed back on the town. This time 
it rose higher — destroyed more. 



> 


228 


THE AMULET 


“ Come home,” cried the Psammead ; “ that's 
the last, I know it is ! That’s the last — over 
there ! ” It pointed with a claw that trem- 
bled. 

“ Oh, come ! ” cried Jane, holding up the 
Amulet. 

“ I will see the end of the dream,” cried 
the learned gentleman. 

“ You’ll never see anything else if you do,” 
said Cyril. 

“Oh, Jimmy!" appealed Anthea. “I’ll 
never bring you out again!” 

“ You’ll never have the chance if you don’t 
go soon,” said the Psammead. 

“ I icill see the end of the dream,” said the 
learned gentleman obstinately. 

The hills around were black with people 
fleeing from the villages to the mountains. 
And even as they fled thin smoke broke from 
the great white peak, and then a faint flash 
of flame. Then the volcano began to throw 
up its mysterious fiery inside parts. The 
earth trembled ; ashes and sulphur showered 
down ; a rain of fine pumice-stone fell like 
snow on all the dry land. The elephants 
from the forests rushed up towards the 
peaks ; great lizards thirty yards long broke 
from the mountain pools and rushed down 
towards the sea. The snows melted and 
rushed down, first in avalanches, then in 
roaring torrents. Great rocks cast up by 
the volcano fell splashing in the sea miles 
away. 


ATLANTIS 


229 


“ Oh, this is horrible ! ” said Anthea. 
“ Come home, come home ! ” 

“ The end of the dream,” gasped the learned 
gentleman. 

“ Hold up the Amulet,” cried the Psammead 
suddenly. The place where they stood was 
now crowded with men and women, and the 
children were strained tight against the para- 
pet. The turret rocked and swayed ; the 
wave had reached the golden wall. 

Jane held up the Amulet. 

“ Now,” cried the Psammead, “ say the 
word ! ” 

And as Jane said it the Psammead leaped 
from its bag and bit the right hand of the 
learned gentleman. 

At the same moment the boys pushed him 
through the arch, and all followed him. 

He turned to look back, and through the 
arch he saw nothing but a waste of waters, 
with above it the peak of the terrible moun- 
tain with fire raging from it. 

He staggered back to his chair. 

“ What a ghastly dream!” he gasped. “ Oh, 
you’re here, my — er — dears. Can I do any- 
thing for you ? ” 

“You’ve hurt your hand,” said Anthea 
gently; “let me bind it up.” 

The hand was indeed bleeding rather badly. 

The Psammead had crept back to its bag. 
All the children were very white. 


230 


THE AMULET 


“ Never again,” said the Psammead later on, 
“will I go into the Past with a grown-up 
person ! I will say for you four, you do do as 
you’re told.” 

“We didn’t even find the Amulet,” said 
Anthea later still. 

“ Of course you didn’t ; it wasn’t there. 
Only the stone it was made of was there. It 
fell on to a ship miles away that managed to 
escape and got to Egypt. I could have told 
you that.” 

“ I wish you had,” said Anthea, and her 
voice was still rather shaky. “Why didn’t 
you ? ” 

“You never asked me,” said the Psammead 
very sulkily. “ I’m not the sort of chap to go 
shoving my oar in where it’s not wanted.” 

“Mr. Ji- jimmy’s friend will have something 
worth having to put in his article now,” said 
Cyril very much later indeed. 

“ Not he,” said Robert sleepily. “ The 
learned Ji- jimmy will think it’s a dream, 
and it’s ten to one he never tells the other 
chap a word about it at all.” 

Robert was quite right on both points. 
The learned gentleman did. And he never 
did. 


CHAPTER X 

THE LITTLE BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS C^SAR 

A GREAT City swept away by the sea, a 
beautiful country devastated by an active 
volcano — these are not the sort of things you 
see every day of the week. And when you 
do see them, no matter how many other 
wonders you may have seen in your time, such 
sights are rather apt to take your breath 
away. Atlantis had certainly this effect on 
the breaths of Cyril, Robert, Anthea, and 
Jane. 

They remained in a breathless state for 
some days. The learned gentleman seemed as 
breathless as any one ; he spent a good deal 
of what little breath he had in telling Anthea 
about a wonderful dream he had. “You 
would hardly believe,” he said, “ that any one 
could have such a detailed vision.” 

But Anthea could believe it, she said, quite 
easily. 

He had ceased to talk about thought-trans- 
ference. He had now seen too many wonders 
to believe that. 


231 


232 


THE AMULET 


In consequence of their breathless condition 
none of the children suggested any new 
excursions through the Amulet. Robert 
voiced the mood of the others when he said 
that they were “ fed-up ” with Amulet for a 
bit. They undoubtedly were. 

As for the Psammead, it went to sand and 
stayed there, worn out by the terror of the 
flood and the violent exercise it had had to 
take in obedience to the inconsiderate wishes 
of the learned gentleman and the Babylonian 
queen. 

The children let it sleep. The danger of 
taking it about among strange people who 
might at any moment utter undesirable wishes 
was becoming more aiid more plain. 

And there are pleasant things to be done in 
London without any aid from Amulets or 
Psammeads. You can, for instance, visit the 
Tower of London, the Houses of Parliament, 
the National Gallery, the Zoological, Gardens, 
the various Parks, the Museums at South 
Kensington, Madame Tussaud’s Exhibition of 
Waxworks, or the Botanical Gardens at Kew. 
You can go to Kew by a river steamer — and 
this is the way that the children would have 
gone if they had gone at all. Only they never 
did, because it was when they were discussing 
the arrangements for the journey, and what 
they should take with them to eat and how 
much of it, and what the whole thing would 
cost, that the adventure of the Little Black 
Girl began to happen. 


BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS CJESAR 233 


The children were sitting on a seat in St. 
James’s Park. They had been watching the 
pelican repulsing with careful dignity the 
advances of the seagulls who are always so 
anxious to play games with it. The pelican 
thinks, very properly, that it hasn’t the figure 
for games, so it spends most of its time pre- 
tending that that is not the reason why it 
won’t play. 

The breathlessness caused by Atlantis was 
wearing off a little. Cyril, who always wanted 
to understand all about everything, was turn- 
ing things over in his mind. 

“ I’m not ; I’m only thinking,” he answered 
when Robert asked him what he was so 
grumpy about. “ I’ll tell you when I’ve 
thought it all out.” 

“If it’s about the Amulet I don’t want to 
hear it,” said Jane. 

“ Nobody asked you to,” retorted Cyril 
mildly, “ and I haven’t finished my inside 
thinking about it yet. Let’s go to Kew in 
the meantime.” 

“ I’d rather go in a steamer,” said Robert ; 
and the girls laughed. 

“ That’s right,” said Cyril, “ he funny. I 
would.” 

“Well, he was, rather,” said Anthea. 

“ I wouldn’t think. Squirrel, if it hurts you 
so,” said Robert kindly. 

“ Oh, shut up,” said Cyril, “ or else talk 
about Ke\\^” 

“I want to see the palms there,” said 


234 


THE AMULET 


Anthea hastily, “to see if they’re anything 
like the ones in the island where we united 
the Cook and the Burglar by the Reverend 
Half-Curate.” 

All disagreeableness was swept away in a 
pleasant tide of recollections, and “ Do you 
remember . . . ? ” they said. “ Have you for- 
gotten . . . ? ” 

“ My hat ! ” remarked Cyril pensively, as 
the flood of reminiscence ebbed a little ; “ we 
have had some times.” 

“We have that,” said Robert. 

“ Don’t let’s have any more,” said Jane 
anxiously. 

“ That’s what I was thinking about,” Cyril 
replied ; and just then they heard the Little 
Black Girl sniff. She was quite close to 
them. 

She was not really a little black girl. She 
was shabby and not very dirty, and she had 
been crying so much that you could hardly 
see, through the narrow chink between her 
swollen lids, how very blue her eyes were. It 
was her dress that was black, and it was too 
big and too long for her, and she wore a 
speckled black-ribboned sailor hat that would 
have fitted a much bigger head than her little 
flaxen one. And she stood looking at the 
children and sniffing. 

“ Oh, dear ! ” said Anthea, jumping up. 
“Whatever is the matter?” 

She put her hand on the little girl’s arm. 
It was rudely shaken off. 


BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS C^SAR 235 


“You leave me be,” said the little girl. “I 
ain’t doing nothing to you.” 

“ But what is it ? ” Anthea asked. “ Has 
some one been hurting you ? ” 

“ What’s that to you ? ” said the little girl 
fiercely. “ Youre all right.” 

“ Come away,” said Robert, pulling at 
Anthea’s sleeve. “She’s a nasty, rude little kid.” 

“ Oh, no,” said Anthea. “ She’s only dread- 
fully unhappy. What is it?” she asked again. 

“ Oh, youre all right,” the child repeated ; 
“ you ain’t agoin’ to the Union.” 

“ Can’t we take you home ? ” said Anthea ; 
and Jane added, “ Where does your mother 
live ? ” 

“She don’t live nowheres — she’s dead — so 
now ! ” said the little girl fiercely, in tones 
of miserable triumph. Then she opened her 
swollen eyes widely, stamped her foot in 
fury, and ran away. She ran no further 
than to the next bench, flung herself down 
there and began to cry without even trying 
not to. 

Anthea, quite at once, went to the little girl 
and put her arms as tight as she could round 
the hunched-up black figure. 

.“ Oh, don’t cry so, dear, don’t, don’t ! ” she 
whispered under the brim of the large sailor 
hat, now very crooked indeed. “ Tell Anthea 
all about it ; Anthea’ll help you. There, there, 
dear, don’t cry.” 

The others stood at a distance. One or two 
passers-by stared curiously. 


236 


THE AMULET 


The child was now only crying part of the 
time ; the rest of the time she seemed to be 
talking to Anthea. 

Presently Anthea beckoned Cyril. 

“ It’s horrible ! ” she said in a furious whisper ; 
“her father was a carpenter and he was a 
steady man, and never touched a drop except 
on a Saturday, and he came up to London 
for work, and there wasn’t any, and then he 
died ; and her name is Imogen, and she’s nine 
come next November. And now her mother’s 
dead, and she’s to stay to-night with Mrs. 
Shrobsall — that’s a landlady that’s been kind 
— and to-morrow the Believing Officer is 
coming for her, and she’s going into the 
Union ; that means the Workhouse. It’s too 
terrible. What can we do?” 

“Let’s ask the learned gentleman,” said 
Jane brightly. 

And as no one else could think of any- 
thing better the whole party walked back to 
Fitzroy Street as fast as it could, the little 
girl holding tight to Anthea’s hand and now 
not crying any more, only sniffing gently. 

The learned gentleman looked up from his 
writing with the smile that had grown much 
easier to him than it used to be. They were 
quite at home in his room now ; it really 
seemed to welcome them. Even the mummy 
case appeared to smile as if in its distant 
superior ancient Egyptian way it were rather 
pleased to see them than not. 

Anthea sat on the stairs with Imogen, who 


BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS C^SAR 237 


was nine come next November, while the 
others went in and explained the difficulty. 

The learned gentleman listened with grave 
attention. 

“ It really does seem rather rough luck,” 
Cyril concluded, “ because I’ve often heard 
about rich people who wanted children most 
awfully — though I know I never should — but 
they do. There must be somebody who’d be 
glad to have her.” 

“Gipsies are awfully fond of children,” 
Robert hopefully said. “ They’re always 
stealing them. Perhaps they’d have her.” 

“She’s quite a nice little girl really,” Jane 
added ; “ she was only rude at first because 
we looked jolly and happy, and she wasn’t. 
You understand that, don’t you?” 

“ Yes,” said he, absently fingering a little 
blue image from Egypt. “ I understand that 
very well. As you say, there must be some 
home where she would be welcome.” He 
scowled thoughtfully at the little blue image. 

Anthea outside thought the explanation 
was taking a very long time. She Avas so 
busy trying to cheer and comfort the little 
black girl that she never noticed the Psam- 
mead who, roused from sleep by her voice, 
had shaken itself free of sand, and was coming 
crookedly up the stairs. It was close to her 
before she saw it. She picked it up and 
settled it in her lap. 

“What is it?” asked the black child. “Is 
it a cat or a organ-monkey, or what?” 


238 THE AMULET 

And then Anthea heard the learned gentle- 
man say — 

“ Yes, I wish we could find a home where 
they would be glad to have her,” and instantly 
she felt the Psammead begin to blow itself 
out as it sat on her lap. 

She jumped up lifting the Psammead in 
her skirt, and holding Imogen by the hand, 
rushed into the learned gentleman’s room. 

“ At least let’s keep together,” she cried. 

“ All hold hands — quick ! ” 

The circle was like that formed for the 
Mulberry Bush or Ring o’ Roses. And Anthea 
was only able to take part in it by holding 
in her teeth the hem of her frock which, 
thus supported, formed a bag to hold the 
Psammead. 

“Is it a game?” asked the learned gentle- 
man feebly. No one answered. 

There was a moment of suspense ; then 
came that curious upside-down, inside-out 
sensation which one almost always feels when 
transported from one place to another by 
magic. Also there was that dizzy dimness 
of sight which comes on these occasions. 

The mist cleared, the upside-down, inside- 
out sensation subsided, and there stood the 
six in a ring, as before, only their twelve 
feet, instead of standing on the carpet of the 
learned gentleman’s room, stood on green 
grass. Above them, instead of the dusky 
ceiling of the Fitzroy Street top fioor, was a 
pale blue sky. And where the walls had 


black girl and JULIUS CJESAR 230 


been and the painted mummy-case, were tall 
dark green trees, oaks and ashes, and in 
between the trees and under them tangled 
bushes and ereeping ivy. There were beech- 
trees too, but there was nothing under 
them but their own dead red drifted leaves, 
and here and there a delicate green fern- 
frond. 

And there they stood in a circle still holding 
hands, as though they were playing Ring o’ 
Roses or the Mulberry Bush. Just six people 
hand in hand in a wood. That sounds simple, 
but then you must remember that they did 
not know tvhere the wood was ; and what’s 
more they didn’t know %chen the wood was. 
There was a curious sort of feeling that made 
the learned gentleman say — 

“ Another dream, dear me ! ” and made the 
children almost certain that they were in a 
time a very long while ago. As for little 
Imogen, she said, “ Oh, my ! ” and kept her 
mouth very much open indeed. 

“ Where are we ? ” Cyril asked the Psam- 
mead. 

“ In Britain,” said the Psammead. 

“ But when ? ” asked Anthea anxiously. 

“ About the year fifty-five before the year 
you reckon time from,” said the Psammead 
crossly. “ Is there anything else you want to 
know ? ” it added, sticking its head out of the 
bag formed by Anthea’s blue linen frock, and 
turning it’s snail’s eyes to right and left. “I’ve 
been here before — it’s very little changed.” 


240 


THE AMULET 


“ Yes, but why here ? ” asked Anthea. 

“ Your inconsiderate friend,” the Psammead 
replied, “ wished to find some home where 
they would be glad to have that unattractive 
and immature female human being whom 
you have picked up — gracious knows how. 
In Megatherium days properly brought- up 
children didn’t talk to shabby strangers in 
parks. Your thoughtless friend wanted a 
place where some one would be glad to have 
this undesirable stranger. And now here you 
are ! ” 

“ I see we are,” said Anthea patiently, look- 
ing round on the tall gloom of the forest. 
“ But why here ? why noio ? ” 

“ You don’t suppose any one would want a 
child like that in your times — in you7' towns ? ” 
said the Psammead in irritated tones. 
“ You’ve got your country into such a mess 
that there’s no room for half your children — 
and no one to want them.” 

“ That’s not our doing, you know,” said 
Anthea gently. 

“ And bringing me here without any water- 
proof or anything,” said the Psammead still 
more crossly, “ when every one knows how 
damp and foggy Ancient Britain was.” 

“ Here, take my coat,” said Robert, taking 
it off. Anthea spread the coat on the ground 
and, putting the Psammead on it, folded it 
round so that only the long eyes and furry 
ears showed. 

“ There,” she said comfortingly. “Now if it 


I 



NTHEA SPREAD THE CO!\.T ON THE GROUND, AND PUTTING THE PSAMMEAD 

ON IT, FOLDED IT ROUND. 


I 


K 

! 


16 




242 


THE AMULET 


does begin to look like rain, I can cover you 
up in a minute. Now what are we to do ? ” 

The others who had stopped holding hands 
crowded round to hear the answer to his 
question. Imogen whispered in an awed 
tone — 

“ Can’t the organ monkey talk neither ! I 
thought it was only parrots ! ” 

“Do?” replied the Psammead. “I don’t 
care what you do ! ” And it drew head and 
ears into the tweed covering of Robert’s coat. 

The others looked at each other. 

“ It’s only a dream,” said the learned 
gentleman hopefully ; “ something is sure to 
happen if we can prevent ourselves from 
waking up.” 

And, sure enough, something did. 

The brooding silence of the dark forest 
was broken by the laughter of children and 
the sound of voices. 

“ Let’s go and see,” said Cyril. 

“ It’s only a dream,” said the learned gentle- 
man to Jane, who hung back ; “if you don’t 
go with the tide of a dream — if you resist — 
you wake up, you know.” 

There was a sort of break in the under- 
growth that was like a silly person’s idea of 
a path. They went along this in Indian file, 
the learned gentleman leading. 

Quite soon they came to a large clearing in 
the forest. There were a number of houses 
— huts perhaps you would have called them — 
with a sort of mud and wood fence. 


BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS C^SAR 243 


“ It’s like the old Egyptian town,” whispered 
Anthea. 

And it was, rather. 

Some children, with no clothes on at all, 
were playing what looked like Ring o’ Roses 
or Mulberry Bush. That is to say, they were 
dancing round in a ring, holding hands. On 
a grassy bank several women, dressed in 
blue and white robes and tunics of beast- 
skins sat watching the playing children. 

The children from Fitzroy Street stood on 
the fringe of the forest looking at the games. 
One woman with long, fair braided hair sat 
a little apart from the others, and there was 
a look in her eyes as she followed the play 
of the children that made Anthea feel sad 
and sorry. 

“ None of those little girls is her own little 
girl,” thought Anthea. 

The little black-clad London child pulled at 
Anthea’s sleeve. 

“ Look,” she said, “ that one there — she’s 
precious like mother ; mother’s ’air was 
somethink lovely, when she ’ad time to comb 
it out. Mother wouldn’t never a-beat me if 
she’d lived ’ere — I don’t suppose there’s e’er a 
public nearer than Epping, do you. Miss?” 

In her eagerness the child had stepped out 
of the shelter of the forest. The sad-eyed 
woman saw her. She stood up, her thin face 
lighted up with a radiance like sunrise, her 
long, lean arms stretched towards the London 
child. 


244 


THE AMULET 


“ Imogen ! ” she cried — at least the word was 
more like that than other word — “ Imogen ! ” 

There was a moment of great silence ; the 
naked children paused in their play, the 
women on the bank stared anxiously. 

“ Oh, it is mother — it is ! ” cried Imogen- 
from-London, and rushed across the cleared 
space. She and her mother clung together 
— so closely, so strongly that they stood an 
instant like a statue carved in stone. 

Then the women crowded round. 

“ It is my Imogen ! ” cried the woman. “ Oh, 
it is ! And she wasn’t eaten by wolves. She’s 
come back to me. Tell me, my darling, how 
did you escape ? Where have you been ? 
Who has fed and clothed you?” 

“ I don’t know nothink,” said Imogen. 

“Poor child!” whispered the women who 
crowded round, “ the terror of the wolves has 
turned her brain.” 

“But you know mc.^” said the fair-haired 
woman. 

And Imogen, clinging with black-clothed 
arms to the bare neck, answered — 

“ Oh, yes, mother, I know you right ’nough.” 

“What is it? What do they say?” the 
learned gentleman asked anxiously. 

“You wished to come where some one 
wanted the child,” said the Psammead. “ The 
child says this is her mother.” 

“ And the mother ? ” 

“You can see,” said the Psammead. 

“ But is she really ? Her child, I mean ? ” 





246 


THE AMULET 


“ Who knows ? ” said the Psammead ; “ but 
each one fills the empty place in the other’s 
heart. It is enough.” 

“ Oh,” said the learned gentleman, “ this is a 
good dream. I wish the child might stay in 
the dream.” 

The Psammead blew itself out and granted 
the wish. So Imogen’s future was assured. 
She had found some one to want her. 

“ If only all the children that no one 
wants,” began the learned gentleman — but 
the woman interrupted. She came towards 
them. 

“ Welcome, all ! ” she cried. “ I am the 
Queen, and my child tells me that you have 
befriended her ; and this I well believe, look- 
ing on your faces. Your garb is strange, but 
faces I can read. The child is bewitched, I 
see that well, but in this she speaks truth. 
Is it not so ? ” 

The children said it wasn’t worth men- 
tioning. 

I wish you could have seen all the honours 
and kindnesses lavished on the children and 
the learned gentleman by those ancient 
Britons. You would have thought, to see 
them, that a child was something to make 
a fuss about, not a bit of rubbish to be 
hustled about the streets and hidden away 
in the workhouse. It wasn’t as grand as the 
entertainment at Babylon, but somehow it 
was more satisfying. 

“ I think you children have some wonderful 


BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS CiESAR 247 


influence on me,” said the learned gentleman. 
“ I never dreamed such dreams before I knew 
you.” 

It was when they were alone that night 
under the stars where the Britons had spread 
a heap of dried fern for them to sleep on, 
that Cyril spoke. 

“Well,” he said, “we’ve made it all right 
for Imogen, and had a jolly good time. I 
vote we get home again before the fighting 
begins.” 

“What fighting?” asked Jane sleepily. 

“ Why, Julius Caesar, you little goat,” 
replied her kind brother. “ Don’t you see 
that if this is the year fifty-five, Julius Caesar 
may happen at any moment.” 

“ I thought you liked Caesar,” said Robert. 

“ So I do — in the history. But that’s 
different from being killed by his soldiers.” 

“ If we saw Caesar we might persuade him 
not to,” said Aiithea. 

“ You persuade Ccesar,” Robert laughed. 

The learned gentleman, before any one< 
could stop him, said, “ I only wish we 
could see Caesar some time.” 

And, of course, in just the little time the 
Psammead took to blow itself out for wish- 
giving, the five, or six counting the Psam- 
mead, found themselves in Caesar’s camp, 
just outside Caesar’s tent. And they saw 
Caesar. The Psammead must have taken 
advantage of the loose wording of the 
learned gentleman’s wish, for it was not 


248 


THE AMULET 


the same time of day as that on which the 
wish had been uttered among the dried 
ferns. It was sunset, and the great man sat 
on a chair outside his tent gazing over the sea 
towards Britain — every one knew without 
being told that it was towards Britain. Two 
golden eagles on the top of posts stood on 
each side of the tent, and on the flaps of the 
tent which was very gorgeous to look at were 
the letters S.P.Q.R. 

The great man turned unchanged on the 
new-comers the august glance that he had 
turned on the violet waters of the Channel. 
Though they had suddenly appeared out of 
nothing, Caesar never showed by the faintest 
movement of an eyelid, by the least tighten- 
ing of that Arm mouth, that they were 
not some long expected embassy. He waved 
a calm hand towards the sentinels, who 
sprang weapons in hand towards the new- 
comers. 

“ Back ! ” he said in a voice that thrilled 
like music. “Since when has Caesar feared 
children and students ? ” 

To the children he seemed to speak in the 
only language they knew ; but the learned 
gentleman heard— in rather a strange accent, 
but quite intelligibly — the lips of Caesar 
speaking in the Latin tongue, and in that 
tongue, a little stiffly he answered — 

“ It is a dream, O Caesar.” 

“ A dream ? ” repeated Caesar. “ What is a 
dream ? ” 



JULIUS C^SAE SAT ON A CHAIE OUTSIDE HIS TENT 


250 


THE AMULET 


“ This,” said the learned gentleman. 

“Not it,” said Cyril, “it’s a sort of magic. 
We come out of another time and another 
place.” 

“And we want to ask you not to trouble 
about conquering Britain,” said Anthea ; “ it’s 
a poor little place, not worth bothering about.” 

“ Are you from Britain ? ” the General 
asked. “Your clothes are uncouth, but well 
woven, and your hair is short as the hair 
of Roman citizens, not long like the hair of 
barbarians, yet such I deem you to be.” 

“We’re not,” said Jane with angry eager- 
ness ; “we’re not barbarians at all. We come 
from the country where the sun never sets, 
and we’ve read about you in books ; and our 
country’s full of fine things — St. Paul’s, and 
the Tower of London, and Madame Tussaud’s 
Exhibition, and ” 

Then the others stopped her. 

“ Don’t talk nonsense,” said Robert in a 
bitter undertone. 

Caesar looked at the children a moment in 
silence. Then he called a soldier and spoke 
with him apart. Then he said aloud — 

“You three elder children may go where 
you will within the camp. Few children are 
privileged to see the camp of Ca3sar. The 
student and the smaller girl-child will remain 
here with me.” 

“ Nobody liked this ; but when Caesar said a 
thing that thing was so, and there was an 
end of it. So the three went. 


BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS C^SAR 251 


Left alone with Jane and the learned 
gentleman, the great Roman found it easy 
enough to turn them inside out. But it was 
not so easy, even for him, to make head or 
tail of the insides of their minds when he 
had got at them. 

The learned gentleman insisted that the 
whole thing was a dream, and refused to talk 
much, on the ground that if he did he would 
wake up. 

Jane, closely questioned, was full of 
information about railways, electric lights, 
balloons, men-of-war, cannons, and dynamite. 

“ And do they fight with swords ? ” asked 
the General. 

“ Yes, swords and guns and cannons.'’ 

Caesar wanted to know what guns were. 

“You fire them,” said Jane, “ and they go 
bang, and people fall down dead.” 

“ But what are guns like ? ” 

Jane found them hard to describe. 

“ But Robert has a toy one in his pocket,” 
she said. So the others were recalled. 

The boys explained the pistol to Caesar very 
fully, and he looked at it with the greatest 
interest. It was a two-shilling pistol, the 
one that had done such good service in the 
old Egyptian village. 

“ I shall cause guns to be made,” said 
Caesar; “and you will be detained till I 
know whether you have spoken the truth. 
I had just decided that Britain was not 
worth the bother of invading. But what 



THEY EXPLAINED THE GUN TO C.ESAR VERY FULLY. 







BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS C^SAR 253 


you tell me decides me that it is very much 
worth while.” 

“ But it’s all nonsense,” said Anthea. 
“ Britain is just a savage sort of island — all 
fogs and trees and big rivers. But the people 
are kind. We know a little girh there named 
Imogen. And it’s no use your making guns 
because you can’t fire them without gun- 
powder, and that won’t be invented for 
hundreds of years, and we don’t know how 
to make it, and we can’t tell you. Do go 
straight home, dear Caesar, and let poor little 
Britain alone.” 

“ But this other girl-child says ” said 

Caesar. 

“All Jane’s been telling you is what it’s 
going to be,” Anthea interrupted, “hundreds 
and hundreds of years from now.” 

“ The little one is a prophetess, eh ? ” said 
Caesar, with a whimsical look. “ Rather 
young for the business, isn’t she ? ” 

“You can call her a prophetess if you like,” 
said Cyril, “ but what Anthea says is true.” 

“ Anthea ? ” said Caesar. “ That’s a Greek 
name.” 

“Very likely,” said Cyril, worriedly. “I 
say, I do wish you’d give up this idea of 
conquering Britain. It’s not worth while, 
really it isn’t ! ” 

“ On the contrary,” said Caesar, “ what 
you’ve told me has decided me to go, if it’s 
only to find out what Britain is really like. 
Guards, detain these children.” 


254 


THE AMULET 


“Quick,” said Robert, “before the guards 
begin detaining. We had enough of that in 
Babylon.” 

Jane held up the Amulet away from the 
sunset, and said the word. The learned 
gentleman was pushed through and the 
others more quickly than ever before passed 
through the arch back into their own times 
and the quiet, dusty sitting-room of the 
learned gentleman. 

It is a curious fact that when Caesar was 
encamped on the coast of Gaul — somewhere 
near Boulogne it was, I believe — he was 
sitting before his tent in the glow of the 
sunset, looking out over the violet waters 
of the English Channel. Suddenly he started, 
rubbed his eyes, and called his secretary. 
The young man came quickly from within 
the tent. 

“ Marcus,” said Caesar, “ I have dreamed a 
very wonderful dream. Some of it I forget, 
but I remember enough to decide what was 
not before determined. To-morrow the ships 
that have been brought round from the 
Ligeris shall be provisioned. We shall sail 
for this three-cornered island. First, we 
will take but two legions. This, if what we 
have heard be true, should suffice. But if 
my dream be true, then a hundred legions 
will not suffice. For the dream I dreamed 
was the most wonderful that ever tor- 
mented the brain even of Caesar. And 


BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS C^SAR 255 


Caesar has dreamed some strange things in 
his time.” 

“And if you hadn’t told Caesar all that 
about how things are now, he’d never have 
invaded Britain,” said Robert to Jane as they 
sat down to tea. 

“ Oh, nonsense,” said Anthea, pouring out ; 
“ it was all settled hundreds of years ago.” 

“ I don’t know,” said Cyril. “ Jam, please. 
This about time being only a thingummy of 
thought is very confusing. If everything 
happens at the same time ” 

“ It cant ! ” said Anthea stoutly, “ the 
present’s the present and the past’s the past.” 

“ Not always,” said Cyril. 

“ When we were in the Past the present 
was the future. Now then ! ” he added 
triumph antly . 

And Anthea could not deny it. 

“ I should have liked to see more of the 
camp,” said Robert. 

“ Yes, we didn’t get much for our money — 
but Imogen is happy, that’s one thing,” said 
Anthea. “We left her happy in the Past. 
I’ve often seen about people being happy 
in the Past, in poetry books. I see what 
it means now.” 

“ It’s not a bad idea,” said the Psammead 
sleepily, putting its head out of its bag and 
taking it in again suddenly, “ being left in 
the Past.” 

Every one remembered this afterwards, 
when 


CHAPTER XI 


BEFORE PHARAOH 

It was the day after the adventure of J ulius 
Caesar and the Little Black Girl that Cyril, 
bursting into the bathroom to wash his 
hands for dinner (you have no idea how 
dirty they were, for he had been playing 
shipwrecked mariners all the morning on 
the leads ait the back of the house, where 
the water-cistern is), found Anthea leaning 
her elbows on the edge of the bath, and 
crying steadily into it. 

“ Hullo ! ” he said, with brotherly concern, 
“ what’s up now ? Dinner’ll be cold before 
you’ve got enough salt-water for a bath.” 

“ Go away,” said Anthea fiercely. “ I hate 
you ! I hate everybody ! ” 

There was a stricken pause. 

“ I didn’t know,” said Cyril tamely. 

“ Nobody ever does know anything,” sobbed 
Anthea. 

“ I didn’t know you were waxy. I thought 
you’d just hurt your fingers with the tap 


BEFORE PHARAOH 257 

again like you did last week,” Cyril carefully 
explained. 

“ Oh — fingers ! ” sneered Anthea through her 
sniffs. 

“ Here, drop it. Panther,” he said uncom- 
fortably. “ You haven’t been having a row 
or anything ? ” 

“No,” she said. “Wash your horrid hands, 
for goodness’ sake, if that’s what you came 
for, or go.” 

Anthea was so seldom cross that when she 
was cross the others were always more 
surprised than angry. 

Cyril edged along the side of the bath and 
stood beside her.' He put his hand on 
her arm. 

“ Dry up, do,” he said, rather tenderly for 
him. And, finding that though she did not 
at once take his advice she did not seem to 
resent it, he put his arm awkwardly across 
her shoulders and rubbed his head against 
her ear. 

“ There ! ” he said, in the tone of one 
administering a priceless cure for all pos- 
sible sorrows. “Now, what’s up?” 

“ Promise you won’t laugh ? ” 

“ I don’t feel laughish myself,” said Cyril 
dismally. 

“Well, then,” said Anthea, leaning her ear 
against his head, “it’s Mother.” 

“What’s the matter with Mother?” asked 
Cyril, with apparent want of sympathy. “ She 
was all right in her letter this morning.” 

17 


258 


THE AMULET 


“ Yes ; but I want her so.” 

“You’re not the only one,” said Cyril 
briefly, and the brevity of his tone admitted 
a good deal. 

“Oh, yes,” said Anthea, “I know. We all 
want her all the time. But I want her now 
most dreadfully, awfully much. I never 
wanted anything so much. That Imogen 
child — the way the ancient British Queen 
cuddled her up ! And Imogen wasn’t me, 
and the Queen wasn’t Mother. And then 
her letter this morning ! And about The 
Lamb liking the salt bathing ! And she 
bathed him in this very bath the night 
before she went away— oh, oh, oh!” 

Cyril thumped her on the back. 

“ Cheer up,” he said. “ You know my in- 
side thinking that I was doing? Well, that 
was partly about Mother. We’ll soon get 
her back. If you’ll chuck it, like a sensible 
kid, and wash your face. I’ll tell you about 
it. That’s right. You let me get to the 
tap. Can’t you stop crying? Shall I put 
the door-key down your back ? ” 

“ That’s for noses,” said Anthea, “ and I’m 
not a kid any more than you are,” but she 
laughed a little, and her mouth began to 
get back into its proper shape. You know 
what an odd shape your mouth gets into 
when you cry in earnest. 

“Look here,” said Cyril, working the soap 
round and round between his hands in a 
thick slime of gray soapsuds. “I’ve been 


BB^FORE PHARAOH 


259 


thinking. We’ve only just played with the 
Amulet so far. We’ve got to work it now — 
work it for all it’s worth. And it isn’t only 
Mother either. There’s Father out there all 
among the fighting. I don’t howl about it, 

but I think Oh, bother the soap ! ” 

The gray-lined soap had squirted out under 
the pressure of his fingers, and had hit 
Anthea’s chin with as mvich force as though 
it had been shot from a catapult. 

“ There now,” she said regretfully, “ now I 
shall have to wash my face.” 

“You’d have had to do that any way,” said 
Cyril with conviction. “ Now, my idea’s this. 
You know missionaries ? ” 

“Yes,” said Anthea, who did not know a 
single one. 

“Well, they always take the savages beads 
and brandy, and stays, and hats, and braces, 
and really useful things — things the savages 
haven’t got, and never heard about. And the 
^ savages love them for their kind generous- 
ness, and give them pearls and shells and 
ivory and cassowaries. And that’s the 
way ” 

“Wait a sec,” said Anthea, splashing. “I 
can’t hear what you’re saying. Shells 
and ” 

“Shells, and things like that. The great 
thing is to get people to love you by being 
generous. And that’s what we’ve got to do. 
Next time we go into the Past we’ll regularly 
fit out the expedition. You remember how 


260 


THi: AMULET 


the Babylonian Queen froze on to that 
pocket-book? Well, well take things like 
that. And offer them in exchange for a 
sight of the Amulet.” 

“ A sight of it’s not much good.” 

“No, silly. But, don’t you see, when 
we’ve seen it we shall know where it is, 
and we can go and take it in the night 
when everybody is asleep.” 

“It wouldn’t be stealing, would it?” said 
Anthea thoughtfully, “ because it will be 
such an awfully long time ago when we do 
it. Oh, there’s that bell again.” 

As soon as dinner was eaten (it was tinned 
salmon and lettuce, and a jam tart), and the 
cloth cleared away, the idea was explained 
to the others, and the Psammead was 
aroused from sand, and asked what it 
thought would be good merchandise with 
which to buy the affection of, say, the 
Ancient Egyptians, and whether it thought 
the Amulet likely to be found in the Court 
of Pharaoh. 

But it shook its head, and shot out its 
snail’s eyes hopelessly. 

“ I’m not allowed to play in this game,” it 
said. “ Of course I could find out in a minute 
where the thing was, only I mayn’t. But I 
may go so far as to own that your idea of 
taking things with you isn’t a bad one. And 
I shouldn’t show them all at once. Take 
small things and conceal them craftily about 
your persons.” 


BEFORE PHARAOH 


261 


This advice seemed good. Soon the table 
was littered over with things which the 
children thought likely to interest the 
Ancient Egyptians. Anthea brought dolls, 
puzzle blocks, a wooden tea-service, a green 
leather case with Necessaire written on it in 
gold letters. Aunt Emma had once given it 
to Anthea, and it had then contained scissors, 
penknife, bodkin, stiletto, thimble, corkscrew, 
and glove-buttoner. The scissors, knife, and 
thimble, and penknife were, of course, lost, 
but the other things were there and as good 
as new. Cyril contributed lead soldiers, a 
cannon, a catapult, a tin-opener, a tie-clip, 
and a tennis-ball, and a padlock — no key. 
Robert collected a candle (“ I don’t suppose 
they ever saw a self-fitting paraffin one,” he 
said), a penny Japanese pin-tray, a rubber 
stamp with his father’s name and address 
on it, and a piece of putty. 

Jane added a key-ring, the brass handle of 
a poker, a pot that had held cold cream, a 
smoked pearl button off her winter coat, and 
a key — no lock. 

“We can’t take all this rubbish,” said 
Robert, with some scorn. “We must just 
each choose one thing.” 

The afternoon passd very agreeably in the 
attempt to choose from the table the four 
most suitable objects. But the four children 
could not agree what was suitable, and at 
last Cyril said — 

“Look here, let’s each be blindfolded and 


262 


THE AMULET 


reach out, and the first thing you touch you 
stick to.” 

This was done. 

Cyril touched the padlock. 

Anthea got the Necessaire. 

Kobert clutched the candle. 

Jane picked up the tie-clip. 

“ It’s not much,” she said. “ I don’t believe 
Ancient Egyptians wore ties.” 

“ Never mind,” said Anthea. “ I believe it’s 
luckier not to really choose. In the stories 
it’s always the thing the woodcutter’s son 
picks up in the forest, and almost throws 
away because he thinks it’s no good, that 
turns out to be the magic thing in the end ; 
or else some one’s lost it, and he is rewarded 
with the hand of the King’s daughter in 
marriage.” 

“ I don’t want any hands in marriage, thank 
you,” said Cyril firmly. 

“ Nor yet me,” said Robert. “ It’s always 
the end of the adventures when it comes to 
the marriage hands.” 

“Are we ready ? ” said Anthea. 

“ It is Egypt we’re going to, isn’t it ? — nice 
Egypt?” said Jane. “I won’t go anywhere 
I don’t know about — like that dreadful big- 
wavy, burning-mountain city,” she insisted. 

Then the Psammead was coaxed into its 
bag. 

“ I say,” said Cyril suddenly, “ I’m rather 
sick of kings. And people notice you so in 
palaces. Besides, the Amulet’s sure to be in 


BEFORE PHARAOH 


263 


a Temple. Let’s just go among the common 
people, and try to work ourselves up by 
degrees. We might get taken on as Temple 
assistants.” 

Like beadles,” said Anthea, “ or vergers. 
They must have splendid chances of stealing 
the Temple treasures.” 

“ Righto ! ” was the general rejoinder. The 
charm was held up. It grew big once again, 
and once again the warm golden Eastern light 
glowed softly beyond it. 

As the children stepped through it loud and 
furious voices rang in their ears. They went 
suddenly from the quiet of Fitzroy Street 
dining-room into a very angry Eastern crowd, 
a crowd much too angry to notice them. 
They edged through it to the wall of a house 
and stood there. The crowd was of men, 
women, and children. They were of all sorts 
of complexions, and pictures of them might 
have been coloured by any child with a 
shilling paint-box. The colours that child 
would have used for complexions would have 
been yellow ochre, red ochre, light red, sepia, 
and indian ink. But their faces were painted 
already — black eyebrows and lashes, and some 
had red lips. The women wore a sort of pina- 
fore with shoulder straps, and loose things 
wound round their heads and shoulders. The 
men wore very little clothing — for they were 
the working people— and the Egyptian boys 
and girls wore nothing at all, unless you 
count the little ornaments hung on chains 


264 


THE AMULET 


round their necks and waists. The children 
saw all this before they could hear anything 
distinctly. Every one was shouting so. 

But a voice sounded above the other voices, 
and presently it was speaking in a silence. 

“ Comrades and fellow workers,” it said, 
and it was the voice of a tall, coppery-coloured 
man who had climbed into a chariot that had 
been stopped by the crowd. Its owner had 
bolted, muttering something about calling the 
Guards, and now the man spoke from it. 
“ Comrades and fellow workers, how long are 
we to endure the tyranny of our masters, 
who live in idleness and luxury on the fruits 
of our toil ? They only give us a bare sub- 
sistence wage, and they live on the fat of the 
land. We labour all our lives to keep them 
in wanton luxury. Let us make an end of 
it!” 

A roar of applause anstvered him. 

“How are you going to do it?” cried a 
voice. 

“You look out,” cried another, “or you’ll 
get yourself into trouble.” 

“I’ve heard almost every single word of 
that,” whispered Robert, “in Hyde Park last 
Sunday ! ” 

“Let us strike for more bread and onions 
and beer, and a longer mid-day rest,” the 
speaker went on. “You are tired, you are 
hungry, you are thirsty. You are poor, 
your wives and children are pining for food. 
The barns of the rich are full to bursting 



266 


THE AMULET 


with the corn we want, the corn our labour 
has grown. To the granaries ! ” 

“ To the granaries ! ” cried half the crowd ; 
but another voice shouted clear above the 
tumult, “ To Pharaoh ! To the King ! Let’s 
present a petition to the King ! He will 
listen to the voice of the oppressed ! ” 

For a moment the crowd swayed one way 
and another — first towards the granaries and 
then towards the palace. Then, with a rush 
like that of an imprisoned torrent suddenly 
set free, it surged along the street towards the 
palace, and the children were carried with it. 
Anthea found it difficult to keep the Psam- 
mead from being squeezed very uncomfort- 
ably. 

The crowd swept through the streets of 
dull-looking houses with few windows, very 
high up, across the market where people 
were not buying but exchanging goods. In 
a momentary pause Robert saw a basket of 
onions exchanged for a hair comb and five 
fish for a string of beads. The people in the 
market seemed better off than those in the 
crowd; they had finer clothes, and more of 
them. They were the kind of people who, 
nowadays, would have lived at Brixton or 
Brockley. 

“ What’s the trouble now ? ” a languid, 
large-eyed lady in a crimped, half-transparent 
linen dress, with her black hair very much 
braided and puffed out, asked of a date-seller. 

“ Oh, the working-men — discontented as 


BEFORE PHARAOH 


267 


usual,” the man answered. “ Listen to them. 
Any one would think it mattered whether 
they had a little more or less to eat. Dregs 
of society ! ” said the date-seller. 

“ Scum ! ” said the lady. 

“ And I’ve heard that before, too,” said 
Robert. 

At that moment the voice of the crowd 
changed, from anger to doubt, from doubt 
to fear. There were other voices shouting ; 
they shouted defiance and menace, and they 
came nearer very quickly. There was the 
rattle of wheels and the pounding of hoofs. 
A voice shouted “ Guards ! ” 

“ The Guards ! The Guards ! ” shouted 
another voice, and the crowd of workmen 
took up the cry. “ The Guards ! Pharaoh’s 
Guards ! ” And swaying a little once more, 
the crowd hung for a moment as it were 
balanced. Then as the trampling hoofs came 
nearer the workmen fled, dispersed, up alleys 
and into the courts of houses, and the 
Guards in their embossed leather chariots 
swept down the street at the gallop, their 
wLeels clattering over the stones, and their 
dark-coloured, blue tunics blown open and 
back with the wind of their going. 

“ So that riot’s over,” said the crimped-linen- 
dressed lady ; “ that’s a blessing ! And did 
you notice the Captain of the Guard ? What 
a very handsome man he was, to be sure ! ” 

The four children had taken advantage of 
the moment’s pause before the crowd turned 


268 


THE AMULET 


to fly to edge themselves and drag each other 
into an arched doorway. 

Now they each drew a long breath and 
looked at the others. 

“ We’re well out of that,"' said Cyril, 

“Yes,” said Anthea, “but I do wish the 
poor men hadn’t been driven back before they 
could get to the King. He might have done 
something for them.” 

“Not if he was the one in the Bible he 
wouldn’t,” said Jane. “ He had a hard heart.” 

“ Ah, that was the Moses one,” Anthea 
explained. “ The Joseph one was quite 
difPerent. I should like to see Pharaoh’s 
house. I wonder whether it’s like the 
Egyptian Court in the Crystal Palace.” 

“ I thought we decided to try to get taken 
on in a Temple,” said Cyril in injured tones. 

“ Yes, but we’ve got to know some one 
first. Couldn’t we make friends with a 
Temple doorkeeper — we might give him the 
padlock or something. I wonder which are 
temples and which are palaces,” Robert added, 
glancing across the market-place to where an 
enormous gateway with huge side buildings 
towered towards the sky. To right and left 
of it were other buildings only a little less 
magnificent. 

“ Did you wish to seek out the Temple of 
Amen-Ra ? ” asked a soft voice behind them, 
“ or the Temple of Mut, or the Temple of 
Khonsu ? ” 

They turned to find beside them a young 


BEFORE PHARAOH 


269 


man. He was shaved clean from head to foot, 
and on his feet were light papyrus sandals. 
He was clothed in a linen tunic of white, 
embroidered heavily in colours. He was 
gay with anklets, bracelets, and armlets of 
gold, richly inlaid. He wore a ring on 
his finger, and he had a short jacket of 
gold embroidery something like the Zouave 
soldiers wear, and on his neck was a gold 
collar with many amulets hanging from it. 
But among the amulets the children could 
see none like theirs. 

“ It doesn’t matter which Temple,” said Cyril 
frankly. 

“ Tell me your mission,” said the young 
man. “I am a divine father of the Temple 
of Amen-Ra, and perhaps I can help you.” 

“Well,” said Cyril, “we’ve come from the 
great Empire on which the sun never sets.” 

“ I thought somehow that you’d come from 
some odd, out-of-the-way spot,” said the priest 
with courtesy. 

“ And we’ve seen a good many palaces. We 
thought we should like to see a Temple, for a 
change,” said Robert. 

The Psammead stirred uneasily in its 
embroidered bag. 

“ Have you brought gifts to the Temple ? ” 
asked the priest cautiously. 

“We have got some gifts,” said Cyril with 
equal caution. “You see there’s magic mixed 
up in it. So we can’t tell you everything. But 
we don’t want to give our gifts for nothing.” 


270 


THE AMULET 


“ Beware how you insult the god,” said the 
priest sternly. “ I also can do magic. I can 
make a waxen image of you, and I can say 
words which, as the wax image melts before 
the fire, will make you dwindle away and at 
last perish miserably.” 

“ Pooh ! ” said Cyril stoutly, “ that’s nothing. 
/ can make fire itself ! ” 

“ I should jolly well like to see you do it,” 
said the priest unbelievingly. 

“Well, you shall,” said Cyril, “nothing 
easier. Just stand close round me.” 

“ Do you need no preparation — no fasting, 
no incantations?” The priest’s tone was 
incredulous. 

“ The incantation’s quite short,” said Cyril, 
taking the hint ; “ and as for fasting, it’s not 
needed in my sort of magic. Union Jack, 
Printing Press, Gunpowder Rule, Britannia ! 
Come, Fire, at the end of this little stick ! ” 

He had pulled a match from his pocket, and 
as he ended the incantation which contained 
no words that it seemed likely the Egyptian 
had ever heard he stooped in the little crowd 
of his relations and the priest and struck the 
match on his boot. He stood up, shielding the 
flame with one hand. 

“ See ? ” he said, with modest pride. “ Here, 
take it into your hand.” 

“No, thank you,” said the priest, swiftly 
backing. “ Can you do that again ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“Then come with me to the great double 


BEFORE PHARAOH 


271 


house of Pharaoh. He loves good magic, and 
he will raise you to honour and glory. There’s 
no need of secrets between initiates,” he went 
on confidentially. “ The fact is, I am out of 
favour at present owing to a little matter of 
failure of prophecy. I told him a beautiful 
princess would be sent to him from Syria, and, 
lo ! a woman thirty years old arrived. But she 
toas a beautiful woman not so long ago. Time 
is only a mode of thought, you know.” 

The children thrilled to the familiar words. 

“ So you know that too, do you ? ” said 
Cyril. 

“ It is part of the mystery of all magic, is 
it not?” said the priest. “Now if I bring 
you to Pharaoh the little unpleasantness I 
spoke of will be forgotten. And I will ask 
Pharaoh, the Great House, Son of the Sun, 
and Lord of the South and North, to decree 
that you shall lodge in the Temple. Then 
you can have a good look round, and teach 
me your magic. And I will teach you 
mine.” 

This idea seemed good — at least it was 
better than any other which at that moment 
occurred to anybody, so they followed the 
priest through the city. 

The streets were very narrow and dirty. 
The best houses, the priest explained, were 
built within walls twenty to twenty-five feet 
high, and such windows as showed in the 
walls were very high up. The tops of palm- 
trees showed above the walls. The poor 


272 


THE AMULET 


people’s houses were little square huts with 
a door and two windows, and smoke coming 
out of a hole in the back. 

“ The poor Egyptians haven’t improved so 
very much in their building since the first 
time we came to Egypt,” whispered Cyril to 
Anthea. 

The huts were roofed with palm branches, 
and everywhere there were chickens, and 
goats, and little naked children kicking about 
in the yellow dust. On one roof was a goat, 
who had climbed up and was eating the dry 
palm-leaves with snorts and head-tossings of 
delight. Over every house door was some 
sort of figure or shape. 

“ Amulets,” the priest explained, “ to keep 
off the evil eye.” 

“ I don’t think much of your ‘ nice Egypt,’ ” 
Robert whispered to Jane ; “ it’s simply not 
a patch on Babylon.” 

“Ah, you wait till you see the palace,” 
Jane whispered back. 

The palace was indeed much more mag- 
nificent than anything they had yet seen that 
day, though it would have made but a poor 
show beside that of the Babylonian King. 
They came to it through a great square 
pillared doorway of sandstone that stood in 
a high brick wall. The shut doors were of 
massive cedar, with bronze hinges, and were 
studded with bronze nails. At the side was 
a little door and a wicket gate, and through 
this the priest led the children. He seemed 


BEFORE PHARAOH 


273 


t(0 know a word that made the sentries make 
way for him. 

Inside was a garden, planted with hundreds 
of different kinds of trees and flowering 
shrubs, a lake full of fish, with blue lotus 
flowers at the margin, and ducks swimming 
about cheerfully, and looking, as Jane said, 
quite modern. 

“ The guard-chamber, the store-houses, the 
Queen’s house,’ said the priest, pointing them 
out. 

They passed through open courtyards, 
paved with flat stones, and the priest 
whispered to a guard at a great inner 
gate. 

“We are fortunate,” he said to the chil- 
dren, “ Pharaoh is even now in the Court 
of Honour. Now, don’t forget to be over- 
come with respect and admiration. It won’t 
do any harm if you fall flat on your faces. 
And whatever you do don’t speak until 
you’re spoken to.” 

“ There used to be that rule in our country,” 
said Robert, “ when my father was a little 
boy.” 

At the outer end of the great hall a crowd 
of people were arguing with and even shoving 
the Guards, who seemed to make it a rule not 
to let any one through unless they were bribed 
to do it. The children heard several promises 
of the utmost richness, and wondered whether 
they would ever be kept. 

All round the hall were pillars of painted 

18 


274 


THE AMULET 


wood. The" roof was of cedar, gorgeously 
inlaid. About half-way up the hall was 
wide, shallow step that went right across the 
hall ; then a little farther on another ; and 
then a steep flight of narrower steps, leading 
right up to the throne on which Pharaoh sat. 
He sat there very splendid, his red and white 
double crown on his head, and his sceptre in 
his hand. The throne had a canopy of wood 
and wooden pillars painted in bright colours. 
On a low, broad bench that ran all round the 
hall sat the friends, relatives, and courtiers of 
the King, leaning on richly-covered cushions. 

The priest led the children up the steps till 
they all stood before the throne ; and then, 
suddenly, he fell on his face with hands 
outstretched. The others did the same, 
Anthea falling very carefully because of the 
Psammead. 

“ Raise them,” said th^ voice of Pharaoh, 
“ that they may speak to me.” 

The officers of the King’s household raised 
them. 

“ Who are these strangers ? ” Pharaoh 
asked, and added very crossly, “ And what 
do you mean, Rekh-mara, by daring to come 
into my presence while your innocence is not 
established ? ” 

“Oh, great King,” said the young priest, 
“you are the very image of Ra, and the 
likeness of his son Horus in every respect. 
You know the thoughts of the hearts of the 
gods and of men, and you have divined 


BEFORE PHARAOH 


275 


that these strangers are the children of the 
children of the vile and conquered Kings 
of the Empire where the sun never sets. 
They know a magic not known to the 
Egyptians. And they come with gifts in 
their hands as tribute to Pharaoh, in whose 
heart is the wisdom of the gods, and on 
his lips their truth.” 

“ That is all very well,” said Pharaoh, “ but 
where are the gifts?” 

The children, bowing as well as they could 
in their embarrassment at finding themselves 
the centre of interest in a circle more grand, 
more golden and more highly coloured than 
they could have imagined possible, pulled out 
the padlock, the Necessawe, and the tie-clip. 
‘^But it’s not tribute all the same,” Cyril 
muttered. “ England doesn’t pay tribute ! ” 

Pharaoh examined all the things with great 
interest when the chief of the household had 
taken them up to him. “ Deliver them to the 
Keeper of the Treasury,” he said to one near 
him. And to the children he said — 

“ A small tribute, truly, but strange, and 
not without worth. And the magic, O Rekh- 

- O ” 

mara f 

“ These unworthy sons of a conquered 
nation ...” began Rekh-mara. 

“Nothing of the kind!” Cyril whispered 
angrily. 

“ ... of a vile and conquered nation, can 
make fire to spring from dry wood — in the 
sight of all.” 



PHARAOH EXAMINED ALL THE THINGS 


WITH GREAT INTEREST. 


BEFORE PHARAOH 


277 


“ I should jolly well like to see them 
do it,” said Pharaoh, just as the priest had 
done. 

So Cyril, without more ado, did it. 

“ Do more magic,” said the King, with 
simple appreciation. 

“ He cannot do any more magic,” said 
Anthea suddenly, and all eyes were turned on 
her, “ because of the voice of the free people 
who are shouting for bread and onions and 
beer and a long mid-day rest. If the people 
had what they wanted, he could do more.” 

“ A rude-spoken girl,” said Pharaoh. “ But 
give the dogs what they want,” he said, 
without turning his head. “ Let them have 
their rest and their extra rations. There are 
plenty of slaves to work.” 

A richly-dressed official hurried out. 

“You will be the idol of the people,” 
Rekh-mara whispered joyously ; “ the Temple 
of Amen will not contain their offerings.” 

Cyril struck another match, and all the 
court was overwhelmed with delight and 
wonder. And when Cyril took the candle 
from his pocket and lighted it with the 
match, and then held the burning candle 
up before the King the enthusiasm knew 
no bounds. 

“ Oh, greatest of all, before whom sun 
and moon and stars bow down,” said Rekh- 
mara insinuatingly, “am I pardoned? Is 
my innocence made plain?” 

“ As plain as it ever will be, I daresay,” said 


278 


THE AMULET 


Pharaoh shortly. “ Get along with you. You 
are pardoned. Go in peace.” The priest went 
with lightning swiftness. 

“And what,” said the King suddenly, “is 
it that moves in that sack ? Show me, oh 
strangers.” 

There was nothing for it but to show the 
Psammead. 

“ Seize it,” said Pharaoh carelessly. “ A 
very curious monkey. It will be a nice little 
novelty for my wild beast collection.” 

And instantly, the entreaties of the children 
availing as little as the bites of the Psam- 
mead, though both bites and entreaties were 
fervent, it was carried away from before 
their eyes. 

“ Oh, do be careful ! ” cried Anthea. “ At 
least keep it dry ! Keep it in its sacred 
house ! ” 

She held up the embroidered bag. 

“ It’s a magic creature,” cried Robert ; “ it’s 
simply priceless ! ” 

“ You’ve no right to take it away,” cried 
Jane incautiously. “ It’s a shame, a barefaced 
robbery, that’s what it is ! ” 

There was an awful silence. Then Pharaoh 
spoke. 

“Take the sacred house of the beast from 
them,” he said, “ and imprison all. To-night 
after supper it may be our pleasure to see 
more magic. Guard them well, and do not 
torture them — yet ! ” 

“ Oh, dear ! ” sobbed Jane, as they were led 


BEFORE PHARAOH 


279 


away. “ I knew exactly what it would be ! 
Oh, I wish you hadn’t ! ” 

“ Shut up, silly,” said Cyril. “ You know 
you would come to Egypt. It was your own 
idea entirely. Shut up. It’ll be all right.” 

“ I thought we should play ball with 
queens,” sobbed Jane, “and have no end of 
larks ! And now everything’s going to be 
perfectly horrid ! ” 

The room they were shut up in loas a room, 
and not a dungeon, as the elder ones had 
feared. That, as Anthea said, was one com- 
fort. There were paintings on the wall that 
at any other time would have been most 
interesting. And a sort of low couch, and 
chairs. 

When they were alone Jane breathed a 
sigh of relief. 

“ Now we can get home all right,” she said. 

“ And leave the Psammead ? ” said Anthea 
reproachfully. 

“ Wait a sec. I’ve got an idea,” said Cyril. 
He pondered for a few moments. Then he 
began hammering on the heavy cedar door. 
It opened, and a guard put in his head. 

“ Stop that row,” he said sternly, “ or ” 

“ Look here,” Cyril interrupted, “ it’s very 
dull for you, isn’t it? Just doing nothing but 
guard us. Wouldn’t you like to see some 
magic? We’re not too proud to do it for 
you. Wouldn’t you like to see it?” 

“ I don’t mind if I do,” said the guard. 

“Well then, you get us that monkey of 


280 


THE AMULET 


ours that was taken away, and we’ll show 
you.” 

“ How do I know you’re not making game 
of me ? ” asked the soldier. “ Shouldn’t 
wonder if you only wanted to get the 
creature so as to set it on to me. I daresay 
its teeth and claws are poisonous.” 

“Well, look here,” said Robert. “You see 
we’ve got nothing with us ? You just shut 
the door, and open it again in five minutes, 
and we’ll have got a magic — oh, I don’t know 
— a magic fiower in a pot for you.” 

“If you can do that you can do anything,” 
said the soldier, and he went out and barred 
the door. 

Then, of course, they held up the Amulet. 
They found the East by holding it up, and 
turning slowly till the Amulet began to grow 
big, walked home through it, and came back 
with a geranium iii full scarlet flower from 
the staircase window of the Fitzroy Street 
house. 

“Well !” said the soldier when he came in, 
“ I really am ! ” 

“We can do much more wonderful things 
than that — oh, ever so much,” said Anthea 
persuasively, “ if we only have our monkey. 
And here’s twopence for yourself.” 

The soldier looked at the twopence. 

“ What’s this ? ” he said. 

Robert explained how much simpler it was 
to pay money for things than to exchange 
them as the people were doing in the market. 



“well!” said the soldier when he came in, “I REALLY 

AM 




282 


THE AMULET 


Later on the soldier gave the coins to his 
captain, who, later still, showed them to 
Pharaoh, who of course kept them and was 
much struck with the idea. That was really 
how coins first came to be used in Egypt. 
You will not believe this, I daresay, but 
really, if you believe the rest of the story, 
I don’t see why you shouldn’t believe this 
as well. 

“I say,” said Anthea, struck by a sudden 
thought, “ I suppose it’ll be all right about 
those workmen ? The King won’t go back on 
what he said about them just because he’s 
angry with us ? ” 

“ Oh, no,” said the soldier, “ you see, he’s 
rather afraid of magic. He’ll keep to his 
word, right enough.” 

“ Then that's all right,” said Robert ; and 
Anthea said softly and coaxingly — 

“ Ah, do get us the monkey, and then you’ll 
see some lovely magic. Do — there’s a nice, 
kind soldier.” 

“ I don’t know where they’ve put your 
precious monkey, but if I can get another 
chap to take on my duty here I’ll see what 
I can do,” he said grudgingly, and went out. 

“ Do you mean,” said Robert, “ that we’re 
going off without even trying for the other 
half of the Amulet?” 

“I really think we’d better,” said Anthea 
tremulously. 

“Of course the other half of the Amulet’s 
here somewhere, or our half wouldn’t have 


BEFORE PHARAOH 


283 


brought us here. I do wish we could find it. 
It is a pity we don’t know any real magic. 
Then we could find out. I do wonder where 
it is — exactly.” 

If they had only known it, something very 
like the other half of the Amulet was very 
near them. It hung round the neck of some 
one, and that some one was watching them 
through a chink, high up in the wall, specially 
devised for watching people who were im- 
prisoned. But they did not know. 

There was nearly an hour of anx:ious waiting. 
They tried to take an interest in the picture 
on the wall, a picture of harpers playing 
very odd harps and women dancing at a feast. 
They examined the painted plaster fioor, and 
the chairs which were of white painted wood 
with coloured stripes at intervals. 

But the time went slowly, and every one 
had time to think of how Pharaoh had said, 
“ Don’t torture them — yet.” 

“ If the worst comes to the worst,” said 
Cyril, “ we must just bunk, and leave the 
Psammead. I believe it can take care of itself 
well enough. They won’t kill it or hurt it 
when they find it can speak and give wishes. 
They’ll build it a temple, I shouldn’t wonder.” 

“ I couldn’t bear to go without it,” said 
Anthea, “ and Pharaoh said ‘ After supper,’ 
that won’t be just yet. And the soldier was 
curious. I’m sure we’re all right for the 
present.” 

All the same, the sound of the door being 


284 


THE AMULET 


unbarred seemed one of the prettiest sounds 
possible. 

“ Suppose he hasn’t got the Psammead ? ” 
whispered Jane. 

But that doubt was set at rest by the 
Psammead itself ; for almost before the door 
was open it sprang through the chink of it 
into Anthea’s arms, shivering and hunching 
up its fur. 

“ Here’s its fancy overcoat,” said the soldier, 
holding out the bag, into which the Psam- 
mead immediately crept. 

“ Now,” said Cyril, “ what would you like 
us to do ? Anything you’d like us to get for 
you ? ” 

“ Any little trick you like,” said the soldier. 
“ If you can get a strange flower blooming in 
an earthenware vase you can get anything, 
I suppose,” he said. “ I just wish I’d got 
two men’s loads of jewels from the King’s 
treasury. That’s what I’ve always wished 
for.” 

At the word “ xvlsh ” the children knew that 
the Psammead would attend to that bit of 
magic. It did, and the floor was littered 
with a spreading heap of gold and precious 
stones. 

“ Any other little trick?” asked Cyril loftily. 
“ Shall we become invisible ? Vanish ? ” 

“Yes, if you like,” said the soldier; “but 
not through the door, you don’t.” 

He closed it carefully and set his broad 
Egyptian back against it. 


BEFORE PHARAOH 


285 


“ No ! no ! ” cried a voice high up among 
the tops of the tall wooden pillars that stood 
against the wall. There was a sound of 
some one moving above. 

The soldier was as much surprised as any- 
body. 

“ That’s magic, if you like,” he said. 

And then Jane held up the Amulet, utter- 
ing the word of Power. At the sound of it 
and at the sight of the Amulet growing into 
the great arch the soldier fell flat on his face 
among the jewels with a cry of awe and 
terror. 

The children went through the arch with a 
quickness born of long practice. But Jane 
stayed in the middle of the arch and looked 
back. 

The others, standing on the dining-room 
carpet in Fitzroy Street, turned and saw her 
still in the arch. “ Some one’s holding her,” 
cried Cyril. “We must go back.” 

But they pulled at Jane’s hands just to see 
if she would come, and, of course, she did 
come. 

Then, as usual, the arch was little again 
and there they all were. 

“Oh, I do wish you hadn’t!” Jane said 
crossly. “ It was so interesting. The priest 
had come in and he was kicking the soldier, 
and telling him he’d done it now, and they 
must take the jewels and flee for their 
lives.” 

“ And did they ? ” 



THE SOLDIER FELL FLAT ON HIS FACE AMONG THE JEWELS 




BEFORE PHARAOH 


287 


“I don’t know. You interfered,” said Jane 
ungratefully. “ I should have liked to see 
the last of it.” 

As a matter of fact, none of them had seen 
the last of it — if by “it ” Jane meant the 
adventure of the Priest and the Soldier. 


CHAPTER XII 


THE SORRY-PRESENT AND THE EXPELLED 
LITTLE BOY 

“ Look here,” said Cyril, sitting on the dining- 
table and swinging his legs ; “I really have 
got it.” 

“ Got what ? ” was the not unnatural rejoin- 
der of the others. 

Cyril was making a boat with a penknife 
and a piece of wood, and the girls were mak- 
ing warm frocks for their dolls, for the 
weather was growing chilly. 

“Why, don’t you see? It’s really not any 
good our going into the Past looking for that 
Amulet. The Past’s as full of difPerent times 
as — as — as the sea is of sand. We’re simply 
bound to hit upon the wrong time. We 
might spend our lives looking for the Amulet 
and never see a sight of it. Why, it’s the 
end of September already. It’s like looking 
for a needle in ” 

“ A bottle of hay — I know,” interrupted 
Robert ; “ but if we don’t go on doing that, 
what are we to do ? ” 


THE SORRY-PKESENT 


289 


“ That’s just it,” said Cyril, in mysterious 
accents. “ Oh, bother ! ” 

Old Nurse had come in with the tray of 
knives, forks, and glasses, and was getting 
the tablecloth and table-napkins out of the 
chiffonier drawer. 

“ It’s always meal-times just when you come 
to anything interesting.” 

“And a nice interesting handful youd be. 
Master Cyril,” said old Nurse, “ if I wasn’t 
to bring your meals up to time. Don’t you 
begin grumbling now, fear you get something 
to grumble a^.” 

“ I wasn’t grumbling,” said Cyril quite 
untruly; “but it does always happen like 
that.” 

“ You deserve to have something happen,” 
said old Nurse. “ Slave, slave, slave for you 
day and night, and never a word of thanks 

“ Why, you do everything beautifully,” said 
Anthea. 

“It’s the first time any of you’s troubled 
to say so, anyhow,” said Nurse shortly. 

“What’s the use of saying^'' inquired 
Robert. “We eat our meals fast enough, 
and almost always two helps. That ought 
to show you ! ” 

“ Ah ! ” said old Nurse, going round the 
table and putting the knives and forks in 
their places ; “ you’re a man all over. Master 
Robert. There was my poor Green, all the 
years he lived with me I never could get 
19 


290 


THE AMULET 


more out of him than ‘ It’s all right ! ’ when 
I asked him if he’d fancied his dinner. And 
yet, when he lay a- dying, his last words to 
me was, ‘ Maria, you was always a good 
cook ! ’ ” She ended with a trembling voice. 

“ And so you are,” cried Anthea, and she 
and Jane instantly hugged her. 

When she had gone out of the room Anthea 
said — 

“ I know exactly how she feels. Now, 
look here ! Let’s do a penance to show we’re 
sorry we didn’t think about telling her before 
what nice cooking she does, and what a dear 
she is.” 

“ Penances are silly,” said Pobert. 

“Not if the penance is something to please 
some one else. I dodn’t mean old peas and 
hair shirts and sleeping on the stones, I 
mean we’ll make her a sorry-present,” 
explained Anthea. “Look here ! I vote 
Cyril doesn’t tell us his idea until we’ve done 
something for old Nurse. It’s worse for us 
than him,” she added hastily, “ because he 
knows what it is and we don’t. Do you all 
agree ? ” 

The others would have been ashamed not 
to agree, so they did. It was not till quite 
near the end of dinner — mutton fritters and 
blackberry and apple pie — that out of the 
earnest talk of the four came an idea that 
pleased everybody and would, they hoped, 
please Nurse. 

Cyril and Robert went out with the taste 


THE SORRY-PRESENT 


291 


of apple still in their mouths and the purple 
of blackberries on their lips — and, in the case 
of Robert, on the wristband as well — and 
bought a big sheet of cardboard at the sta- 
tioner’s. Then at the plumber’s shop, that 
has tubes and pipes and taps and gas-fittings 
in the window, they bought a pane of glass 
the same size as the cardboard. The man 
cut it with a very interesting tool that had 
a bit of diamond at the end, and he gave 
them, out of his own free generousness, a 
large piece of putty and a small piece of glue. 

While they were out the girls had floated 
four photographs of the four children off their 
cards in hot water. These were now stuck 
in a row along the top of the cardboard. Cyril 
put the glue to melt in a jampot, and put the 
jampot in a saucepan and the saucepan on the 
fire, while Robert painted a wreath of poppies 
round the photographs. He painted rather 
well and very quickly, and poppies are easy to 
do if you’ve once been shown how. Then 
Anthea drew some printed letters and Jane 
coloured them. The words were : 

“With all our loves to shew 
We like the thigs to eat.” 

And when the painting was dry they all 
signed their names at the bottom and put 
the glass on, and glued brown paper round 
the edge and over the back, and put two 
loops of tape to hang it up by. 


292 


THE AMULET 


Of course every one saw when too late that 
there were not enough letters in “ things,” 
so the missing “ n ” was put in. It was impos- 
sible, of course, to do the whole thing over 
again for just one letter. 

“ There ! ” said Anthea, placing it carefully, 
face up, under the sofa. “ It’ll be hours before 
the glue’s dry. Now, Squirrel, fire ahead ! ” 

“Well, then,” said Cyril in a great hurry, 
rubbing at his gluey hands with his pocket 
handkerchief. “ What I mean to say is this.” 

There was a long pause. 

“ Well,” said Robert at last, ^^xohat is it that 
you mean to say ? ” 

“ It’s like this,” said Cyril, and again stopped 
short. 

“ Like what ” asked J ane. 

“ How can I tell you if you will keep all on 
interrupting ? ” said Cyril sharply. 

So no one said any more, and with wrinkled 
frowns he arranged his ideas. 

“ Look here,” he said, “ what I really mean 
is — we can remember now what we did when 
we went to look for the Amulet. And if we’d 
found it we should remember that too.” 

“ Rather ! ” said Robert. “ Only, you see we 
haven’t.” 

“ But in the future we shall have.” 

“ Shall we, though? ” said Jane. 

“Yes — unless we’ve been made fools of by 
the Psammead. So then, where we want to 
go to is where we shall remember about where 
we did find it.” 


THE SOREY-PRESENT 


293 


“ I see,” said Robert, but he didn’t. 

don’t,” said Anthea, who did, very nearly. 
“ Say it again, Squirrel, and very slowly.” 

“ If,” said Cyril, very slowly indeed, “ we 
go into the future — after we’ve found the 
Amulet ” 

“ But we’ve got to find it first,” said Jane. 

“ Hush ! ” said Anthea. 

“ There will be a future,” said Cyril, driven 
to greater clearness by the blank faces of the 
other three, “ there will be a time after we’ve 
found it. Let’s go into that time— and then 
we shall remember how we found it. And 
then we can go back and do the finding 
really.” 

“ I see,” said Robert, and this time he did, 
and I hope you do. 

“ Yes,” said Anthea. “ Oh, Squirrel, how 
clever of you ! ” 

“But will the Amulet work both ways?” 
inquired Robert. 

“ It ought to,” said Cyril, “ if time’s only a 
thingummy of whatsitsname. Anyway we 
might try.” 

“ Let’s put on our best things, then,” urged 
Jane. “ You know what people say about 
progress and the world growing better and 
brighter. I expect people will be awfully 
smart in the future.” 

“All right,” said Anthea, “ we should have 
to wash anyway, I’m all thick with glue.” 

When every one was clean and dressed, 
the charm was held up. 


294 


THE AMULET 


“We want to go into the future and see the 
Amulet after we’ve found it,” said Cyril, and 
Jane said the word of Power. They walked 
through the big arch of the charm straight 
into the British Museum. They knew it at 
once, and there, right in front of them, under 
a glass case, was the Amulet — their own half 
of it, as well as the other half they had never 
been able to find — and the two were joined by 
a pin of red stone that formed a hinge. 

“ Oh, glorious ! ” cried Robert. “ Here it 
is!” 

“ Yes,” said Cyril, very gloomily, “ here it is. 
But we can’t get it out.” 

“No,” said Robert, remembering how im- 
possible the Queen of Babylon had found it to 
get anything out of the glass cases in the 
Museum — except by Psammead magic, and 
then she hadn’t been able to take anything 
away with her ; “no — but we remember 
where we got it, and we can ” 

“ Oh, do we ? ” interrupted Cyril bitterly, 
“ do you remember where we got it ? ” 

“ No,” said Robert, “ I don’t, exactly, now I 
come to think of it.” 

Nor did any of the others ! 

“But lohy can’t we?” said Jane. 

“ Oh, / don’t know,” Cyril’s tone was im- 
patient, “ some silly old enchanted rule, I 
suppose. I wish people would teach you 
magic at school like they do sums — or instead 
of. It would be some use having an Amvilet 
then.” 




RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM, UNDER A GLASS CASE, WAS THE AMULET. 



296 


THE AMULET 


“ I wonder how far we are in the future,” 
said Anthea, “ the Museum looks just the 
same, only lighter and brighter, somehow.” 

“ Let’s go back and try the Past again,” said 
Robert. 

“Perhaps the Museum people could tell us 
how we got it,” said Anthea with sudden hope. 
There was no one in the room, but in the next 
gallery, where the Assyrian things are and 
still were, they found a kind, stout man in a 
loose, blue gown, and stockinged legs. 

“ Oh, they’ve got a new uniform, how 
pretty ! ” said J ane. 

When they asked him their question he 
showed them a label on the case. It said, 
“From the collection of .” A name fol- 

lowed, and it was the name of the learned 
gentleman who, among themselves, and to 
his face when he had been with them at 
the other side of the Amulet, they had 
called Jimmy. 

“ That's not much good,” said Cyril, “ thank 
you.” 

“ How is it you’re not at school ? ” asked the 
kind man in blue. “ Not expelled for long, I 
hope ? ” 

“ We’re not expelled at all,” said Cyril 
rather warmly. 

“Well, I shouldn’t do it again, if I were 
you,” said the man, and they could see he did 
not believe them. There is no company so 
little pleasing as that of people who do not 
believe you. 


THE SORRY-PRESENT 


297 


“ Thank you for showing us the label,” said 
Cyril. And they came away. 

As they came through the doors of the 
Museum they blinked at the sudden glory of 
sunlight and blue sky. The houses opposite 
the Museum were gone. Instead there was a 
big garden, with trees and flowers and smooth 
green lawns, and not a single notice to tell 
you not to walk on the grass and not to 
destroy the trees and shrubs and not to pick 
the flowers. There were comfortable seats all 
about, and arbours covered with roses, and 
long, trellised walks, also rose-covered. Whis- 
pering, plashing fountains fell into full white 
marble basins, white statues gleamed among 
the leaves, and the pigeons that swept about 
among the branches or pecked on the smooth, 
soft gravel were not black and tumbled like 
the Museum pigeons are now, but bright and 
clean and sleek as birds of new silver. A 
good many people were sitting on the seats, 
and on the grass babies were rolling and kick- 
ing and playing — with very little on indeed. 
Men, as well as women, seemed to be in charge 
of the babies and were playing with them. 

“ It’s like a lovely picture,” said Anthea, and 
it was. For the people’s clothes were of 
bright, soft colours and all beautifully and 
very simply made. No one seemed to have 
any hats or bonnets, but there were a great 
many Japanese-looking sunshades. And 
among the trees were hung lamps of 
coloured glass. 



THEBE WAS A BIG GAEDEN WITH TEEES AND FLOWERS AND SMOOTH 

GREEN LAWNS 




THE SORRY-PRESENT 


299 


“ I expect they light those in the evening,” 
said Jane. “ I do wish we lived in the 
future ! ” 

They walked down the path, and as they 
went the people on the benches looked at the 
four children very curiously, but not rudely or 
unkindly. The children, in their turn, looked — 
I hope they did not stare — at the faces of these 
people in the beautiful soft clothes. Those 
faces were worth looking at. Not that they 
were all handsome, though even in the matter 
of handsomeness they had the advantage of 
any set of people the children had ever seen. 
But it was the expression of their faces that 
made them worth looking at. The children 
could not tell at first what it was. 

“ I know,” said Anthea suddenly. “ They’re 
not worried ; that’s what it is.” 

And it was. Everybody looked calm, no 
one seemed to be in a hurry, no one seemed 
to be anxious, or fretted, and though some 
did seem to be sad, not a single one looked 
worried. 

But though the people looked kind every one 
looked so interested in the children that they 
began to feel a little shy and turned out of 
the big main path into a narrow little one 
that wound among trees and shrubs and 
mossy, dripping springs. 

It was here, in a deep, shadowed cleft be- 
tween tall cypresses, that they found the 
expelled little boy. He was lying face down- 
ward on the mossy turf, and the iDeculiar 


300 


THE AMULET 


shaking of his shoulders was a thing they had 
seen, more than once, in each other. So 
Anthea kneeled down by him and said — 

“ What’s the matter ? ” 

“ I’m expelled from school,” said the boy 
between his sobs. 

This was serious. People are not expelled 
for light offences. 

“ Do you mind telling us what you’d done ? ” 

“ I — I tore up a sheet of paper and threw it 
about in the playground,” said the child, in 
the tone of one confessing an unutterable 
baseness. “You won’t talk to me any more 
now you know that,” he added without look- 
ing up. 

“ Was that all? ” asked Anthea. 

“ It’s about enough,” said the child ; “ and 
I’m expelled for the whole day ! ” 

“ I don’t quite understand,” said Anthea, 
gently. The boy lifted his face, rolled over, 
and sat up. 

“ Why, whoever on earth are you ? ” he 
said. 

“We’re strangers from a far country,” said 
Anthea. “ In our country it’s not a crime to 
leave a bit of paper about.” 

“ It is here,” said the child. “ If grown-ups 
do it they’re fined. When we do it we’re 
expelled for the whole day.” 

“Well, but,” said Robert, “that just means 
a day’s holiday.” 

“ You must come from a long way off,” said 
the little boy. “ A holiday’s when you all 


THE SORRY-PRESENT 


301 


have play and treats and jolliness, all of you 
together. On your expelled days no one’ll 
speak to you. Every one sees you’re an 
Expelleder or you’d be in school.” 

“ Suppose you were ill ? ” 

“Nobody is — hardly. If they are, of course, 
they wear the badge, and every one is kind 
to you. I know a boy that stole his sister’s 
illness badge and wore it when he was ex- 
pelled for a day. He got expelled for a week 
for that. It must be awful not to go to 
school for a week.” 

“ Do you like school, then ? ” asked Robert 
incredulously. 

“ Of course I do. It’s the loveliest place 
there is. I chose railways for my special 
subject this year, there are such splendid 
models and things, and now I shall be all 
behind because of that torn-up paper.” 

“You choose your own subject ? ” asked 
Cyril. 

“ Yes, of course. Where did you come 
from? Don’t you know anything V 

“ No,” said Jane definitely ; “ so you’d better 
tell us.” 

“ Well, on Midsummer Day school breaks 
up and everything’s decorated with flowers, 
and you choose your special subject for next 
year. Of course you have to stick to it for a 
year at least. Then there are all your other 
subjects, of course, reading, and painting, and 
the rules of Citizenship.” 

“ Good gracious ! ” said Anthea. 


302 


THE AMULET 


“ Look here,” said the child, jumping up, 
“ it’s nearly four. The expelledness only lasts 
till then. Come home with me. Mother will 
tell you all about everything.” 

“Will your mother like you taking home 
strange children?” asked Anthea. 

“ I don’t understand,” said the child, settling 
his leather belt over his honey-coloured smock 
and stepping out with hard little bare feet. 
“ Come on.” 

So they went. 

The streets were wide and hard and very 
clean. There were no horses, but a sort of 
motor carriage that made no noise. The 
Thames flowed between green banks, and 
there were trees at the edge, and people sat 
under them, fishing, for the stream was clear 
as crystal. Everywhere there were green 
trees and there was no smoke. The houses 
were set in what seemed like one green 
garden. 

The little boy brought them to a house, and 
at the window was a good, bright mother- 
face. The little boy rushed in, and through 
the window they could see him hugging his 
mother, then his eager lips moving and his 
quick hands pointing. 

A lady in soft green clothes came out, spoke 
kindly to them, and took them into the oddest 
house they had ever seen. It was very bare, 
there were no ornaments, and yet every single 
thing was beautiful, from the dresser with its 
rows of bright china, to the thick squares of 


1 - 



' U . (t . M ( P- . 


A LADY IN SOFT GREEN CLOTHES CAME OUT. 


304 


THE AMULET 


Eastern-looking carpet on the floors. I can’t 
describe that house ; I haven’t the time. And 
I haven’t heart either, when I think how 
different it was from our houses. The lady 
took them all over it. The oddest thing of 
all was the big room in the middle. It had 
padded walls and a soft, thick carpet, and all 
the chairs and tables were padded. There 
wasn’t a single thing in it that any one could 
hurt itself with. 

“ Whatever’s this for ? — lunatics ? ” asked 
Cyril. 

The lady looked very shocked. 

“ No ! It’s for the children, of course,” she 
said. “ Don’t tell me that in your country 
there are no children’s rooms.” 

“There are nurseries,” said Anthea doubt- 
fully, * “ but the furniture’s all cornery and 
hard, like other rooms.” 

“ How shocking ! ” said the lady ; “ you 
must be very much behind the times in your 
country! Why, the children are more than 
half of the people ; it’s not much to have one 
room where they can have a good time and 
not hurt themselves.” 

“ But there’s no fireplace,” said Anthea. 

“ Hot-air pipes, of course,” said the lady. 
“ Why, how could you have a fire in a 
nursery? A child might get burned.” 

“In our country,” said Robert suddenly, 
“ more than three thousand children are 
burned to death every year. Father told 
me,” he added, as if apologising for this 


THE SORRY-PRESENT 


305 


piece of information, “once when I’d been 
playing with fire.” 

The lady turned quite pale. 

“ What a frightful place you must live in ! ” 
she said. 

“ What’s all the furniture padded for ? ” 
Anthea asked, hastily turning the subject. 

“ Why, you couldn’t have little tots of two 
or three running about in rooms where the 
things were hard and sharp ! They might 
hurt themselves.” 

Robert fingered the scar on his forehead 
where he had hit it against the nursery 
fender when he was little. 

“ But does every one have rooms like this, 
poor people and all ? ” asked Anthea. 

“ There’s a room like this where ever there’s 
a child, of course,” said the lady. “ How 
refreshingly ignorant you are ! — no, I don’t 
mean ignorant, my dear. Of course, you’re 
awfully well up in Ancient History. But I 
see you haven’t done your Duties of Citizen- 
ship Course yet.” 

“But beggars, and people like that?” per- 
sisted Anthea ; “ and tramps and people who 
haven’t any homes ? ” 

“ People who haven’t any homes ? ” repeated 
the lady. “ I really dont understand what 
you’re talking about.” 

“ It’s all different in our country,” said 
Cyril carefully ; ” “ and I have read that it 
used to be different in London. Usedn’t 
people to have no homes and beg because 
20 


306 


THE AMULET 


they were hungry? and wasn’t London very 
black and dirty once upon a time? and the 
Thames all muddy and filthy? and narrow 
streets, and ” 

“You must have been reading very old- 
fashioned books,” said the Lady. “Why, all 
that was in the dark ages ! My husband can 
tell you more about it than I can. He took 
Ancient History as one of his special subjects.” 

“I haven’t seen any working people,” said 
Anthea. 

“ Why, we’re all working people,” said the 
lady ; “ at least my husband’s a carpenter.” 

“ Good gracious ! ” said Anthea ; “ but you’re 
a lady ! ” 

“ Ah,” said the lady, “ that quaint old word ! 
Well, my husband will enjoy a talk with you. 
In the dark ages every one was allowed to 
have a smoky chimney, and those nasty horses 
all over the streets, and all sorts of rubbish 
thrown into the Thames. And, of course, 
the sufferings of the people will hardly bear 
thinking of. It’s very learned of you to 
know about it all. Did you make Ancient 
History your special subject?” 

“ Not exactly,” said Cyril, rather uneasily. 
“What is the Duties of Citizenship Course 
about ? ” 

“Don’t you really know? Aren’t you pre- 
tending — just for fun? Really not? Well, 
that course teaches you how to be a good 
citizen, what you must do and what you 
mayn’t do, so as to do your full share of the 


THE SOERY-PEESENT 


307 


work of making your town a beautiful and 
happy place for people to live in. There’s a 
quite simple little thing they teach the tiny 
children. How does it go . . . ? 

“ ‘ I must not steal and I must learn, 

Nothin'g is mine that I do not earn. 

I must try in work and play 
To make things beautiful every day. 

I must be kind to every one, 

And never let cruel things be done. 

I must be brave, and I must try 
When I am hurt never to cry. 

And always laugh as much as I can. 

And be glad that I’m going to be a man 
To work for my living and help the rest. 

And never do less than my very best.’ ” 


“ That’s very easy,” said Jane. “ I could 
remember that.” 

“ That’s only the very beginning, of course,” 
said the lady ; “ there are heaps more rhymes. 
There’s the one beginning — 

“ ‘ I must not litter the beautiful street 
With bits of paper or things to eat ; 

I must not pick the public flowers. 

They are not mine, but they are ours.' ” 


“ And ‘ things to eat ’ reminds me — are 
you hungry? Wells, run and get a tray of 
nice things.” 

“Why do you call him ‘Wells’?” asked 
Robert as the boy ran off. 


308 


THE AMULET 


“ It’s after the great reformer — surely 
you’ve heard of him ? He lived in the dark 
ages, and he saw that what you ought to do 
is to find out what you want and then try to 
get it. Up to then people had always tried 
to tinker up what they’d got. We’ve got a 
great many of the things he thought of. 
Then ‘ Wells ’ means springs of clear water. 
It’s a nice name, don’t you think ? ” 

Here Wells returned with strawberries 
and cakes and lemonade on a tray, and every- 
body ate and enjoyed. 

“Now, Wells,” said the lady, “run off or 
you’ll be late and not meet your Daddy.” 

Wells kissed her, waved to the others, and 
went. 

“ Look here,” said Anthea suddenly, “ would 
you like to come to our country, and see what 
it’s like ? It wouldn’t take you a minute.” 

The lady laughed. But Jane held up the 
charm and said the word. 

“ What a splendid conjuring trick ! ” cried 
the lady, enchanted with the beautiful, grow- 
ing arch. 

“ Go through,” said Anthea. 

The lady went, laughing. But she did not 
laugh when she found herself, suddenly, in the 
dining-room at Fitzroy Street. 

“ Oh, what a horrible trick ! ” she cried. 
“What a hateful, dark, ugly place!” 

She ran to the window and looked out. The 
sky was gray, the street was foggy, a dismal 
organ-grinder was standing opposite the door. 


THE SORRY-PRESENT 


309 


a beggar and a man who sold matches were 
quarrelling at the edge of the pavement on 
whose greasy, black surface people hurried 
along, hasting to get to the shelter of their 
houses. 

“ Oh, look at their faces, their horrible 
faces ! ” she cried. “ What’s the matter with 
them all ? ” 

“ They’re poor people, that’s all,” said Robert. 

“ But it’s not all ! They’re ill, they’re un- 
happy, they’re wicked ! Oh, do stop it, there’s 
dear children. It’s very, very clever. Some 
sort of magic- lantern trick, I suppose, like 
I’ve read of. But do stop it. Oh ! their poor, 
tired, miserable, wicked faces ! ” 

The tears were in her eyes. Anthea signed 
to Jane. The arch grew, they spoke the words, 
and pushed the lady through it into her own 
time and place, where London is clean and 
beautiful, and the Thames runs clear and 
bright, and the green trees grow, and no one 
is afraid, or anxious, or in a hurry. 

There was a silence. Then — 

“ I’m glad we went,” said Anthea, with a 
deep breath. 

“ I’ll never throw paper about again as long 
as I live,” said Robert. 

“ Mother always told us not to,” said Jane. 

“I would like to take up the Duties of 
Citizenship for a special subject,” said Cyril. 
“ I wonder if Father could put me through it. 
I shall ask him when he comes home.” 

“ If we’d found the Amulet, Father could be 



“OH, LOOK AT THEIR FACES, THEIR HORRIBLE FACES ! ” SHE 

CRIED. 




THE SOKRY-PRESENT 


311 


home noio^' said Anthea, “ and Mother and 
The Lamb.” 

“ Let’s go into the future again,'' suggested 
Jane brightly. “ Perhaps we could remember 
if it wasn’t such an awful way off.” 

So they did. This time they said, “ The 
future, where the Amulet is, not so far 
away.” 

And they went through the familiar arch 
into a large, light room with three windows. 
Facing them was the familiar mummy case. 
And at a table by the window sat the learned 
gentleman. They knew him at once, though 
his hair was white. His was one of the faces 
that do not change with age. In his hand was 
the Amulet — complete and perfect. 

He rubbed his other hand across his fore- 
head in the way they were so used to. 

“ Dreams, dreams ! ” he said ; “ old age is 
full of them ! ” 

“You’ve been in dreams with us before 
now,” said Robert, “don’t you remember?” 

“I do, indeed,” said he. The room had 
many more books than the Fitzroy Street 
room, and far more curious and wonderful 
Assyrian and Egyptian objects. “The most 
wonderful dreams I ever had, had you in 
them.” 

“Where,” asked Cyril, “did you get that 
thing in your hand?” 

“ If you weren’t just a dream,” he answered, 
smiling, “you’d remember that you gave it 
to me.” 





AT A TABLE BY THE WINDOW SAT THE LEARNED GENTLEMAN, 


THE SORRY-PRESENT 


313 


“ But where did we get it ? ” Cyril asked 
eagerly. 

“ All, you never would tell me that,” he said, 
“ you always had your little mysteries. You 
dear children ! What a difference you made 
to that old Bloomsbury house ! I wish I could 
dream you oftener. Now you’re grown up 
you’re not like you used to be.” 

“ Grown up ? ” said Anthea. 

The learned gentleman pointed to a frame 
with four photographs in it. 

“ There you are,” he said. 

The children saw four grown-up people’s 
, portraits— two ladies, two gentlemen — and 
looked on them with loathing. 

“Shall we grow up like that?'" whispered 
Jane. “How perfectly horrid!” 

“If we’re ever like that, we shan’t know 
it’s horrid, I expect,” Anthea, with some in- 
sight, whispered back. “ You see, you get 
used to yourself while your’re changing. 
It’s — it’s being so sudden makes it seem so 
frightful now.” 

The learned gentleman was looking at them 
with wistful kindness. “ Don’t let me un- 
dream you just yet,” he said. There was 
a pause. 

“ Do you remember token we gave you that 
Amulet?” Cyril asked suddenly. 

“ You know, or you would if you weren’t 
a dream, that it was on the 3rd of 
December, 1905. I shall never forget that 
day.” 


314 


THE AMULET 


“Thank you,” said Cyril, earnestly; “oh, 
thank you very much.” 

“ You’ve got a new room,” said Anthea, 
looking out of the window, “ and what a 
lovely garden ! ” 

“ Yes,” said he, “ I’m too old now to care 
even about being near the Museum. This is 
a beautiful place. Do yovi know — I can 
hardly believe you’re just a dream, you do 
look so exactly real. Do you know . . .” his 
voice dropped, “I can say it to you, though, 
of course, if I said it to any one that wasn’t 
a dream they’d call me mad ; there was some- 
thing about that Amulet you gave me —some- 
thing very mysterious.” 

“ There was that,” said Robert. 

“ Ah, I don’t mean your pretty little childish 
mysteries about where you got it. But about 
the thing itself. First, the wonderful dreams 
I used to have, after you’d shown me the first 
half of it ! Why, my book on Atlantis, that 
I did, was the beginning of my fame and my 
fortune, too. And I got it all out of a dream ! 
And then, ‘ Britain at the Time of the Roman 
Invasion ’ — that was only a pamphlet, but 
it explained a lot of things people hadn’t 
vmderstood.” 

“Yes,” said Anthea, “it would.” 

“ That was the beginning. But after you’d 
given me the whole of the Amulet — ah, it was 
generous of you !— then, somehow, I didn’t 
need to theorise, I seemed to knou about 
the old Egyptian civilisation. And they 


THE SORRY-PRESENT 


315 


can’t upset my theories ” — he rubbed his 
thin hands and laughed triumphantly — “ they 
can’t, though they’ve tried. Theories, they 
call them, but they’re more like — I don’t know 
— more like memories. I know I’m right about 
the secret rites of the Tc^mple of Amen.” 

“ I’m so glad you’re rich,” said Anthea. 
“ You weren’t, you know, at Fitzroy Street.” 

“ Indeed I wasn’t,” said he, “ but I am now. 
This beautiful house and this lovely garden 
— I dig in it sometimes ; you remember, you 
used to tell me to take more exercise ? Well, 
I feel I owe it all to you — and the Amulet.” 

“ I’m so glad,” said Anthea, and kissed him. 
He started. 

“ That didn’t feel like a dream,” he said, 
and his voice trembled. 

“It isn’t exactly a dream,” said Anthea 
softly, “it’s all part of the Amulet — it’s a sort 
of extra special, real dream, dear Jimmy.” 

“ Ah,” said he, “ when you call me that, 
I know I’m dreaming. My little sister — I 
dream of her sometimes. But it’s not real 
like this. Do you remember the day I 
dreamed you brought me the Babylonish 
ring 

“We remember it all,” said Robert. “Did 
you leave Fitzroy Street because you were 
too rich for it ? ” 

“ Oh, no ! ” he said reproachfully. “ You 
know I should never have done such a thing 
as that. Of course, I left when your old Nurse 
died and — what’s the matter ! ” 


316 


THE AMULET 


“ Old Nurse dead ^ ” said Anthea. “ Oh, no ! ” 

“ Yes, yes, it’s the common lot. It’s a long 
time ago now.” 

Jane held up the Amulet in a hand that 
twittered. 

“ Come ! ” she cried, “ oh, come home ! ” 
She may be dead before we get there, and 
then we can’t give it to her. Oh, come ! ” 

“Ah, don’t let the dream end now !” pleaded 
the learned gentleman. 

“ It must,” said Anthea firmly, and kissed 
him again. 

“ When it comes to people dying,” said 
Robert, “ goodbye ! I’m so glad you’re rich 
and famous and happy.” 

“Do come!” cried Jane, stamping in her 
agony of impatience. 

And they went. Old Nurse brought in 
tea almost as soon as they were back in 
Fitzroy Street. As she came in with the 
tray, the girls rushed at her and nearly upset 
her and it. 

“Don’t die!” cried Jane, “oh, don’t!” and 
Anthea cried, “ Dear, ducky, darling old 
Nurse, don’t die ! ” 

“ Lord love you ! ” said Nurse, “ I’m not 
agoing to die yet a while, please Heaven ! 
Whatever on earth’s the matter with the 
chicks ? ” 

“ Nothing. Only don’t ! ” 

She put the tray down and hugged the 
girls in turn. The boys thumped her on the 
back with heartfelt affection. 


THE SORRY-PRESENT 


317 


“ I’m as well as ever I was in my life,” she 
said. “ What nonsense about dying ! You’ve 
been a setting too long in the dusk, that’s 
what it is. Regular blind man’s holiday. 
Leave go of me, while I light the gas.” 

The yellow light illuminated four pale faces. 

“We do love you so,” Anthea went on, “ and 
we’ve made you a picture to show you how we 
love you. Get it out. Squirrel.” 

The glazed testimonial was dragged out 
from under the sofa and displayed. 

“ The glue’s not dry yet,” said Cyril, “ look 
out ! ” 

“ What a beauty ! ” cried old Nurse. “ Well, 
I never ! And your pictures and the beautiful 
writing and all. Well, I always did say your 
hearts was in the right place, if a bit careless 
at times. Well ! I never did ! I don’t know 
as I was ever better pleased in my life.” 

She hugged them all, one after the other. 
And the boys did not mind it, somehow, 
that day. 


“ How is it we can remember all about the 
future, noio ” Anthea woke the Psammead 
with laborious gentleness to put the ques- 
tion. “ How is it we can remember what 
we saw in the future, and yet, when we 
icere in the future we could not remember 
the bit of the future that was past then, 
the time of finding the Amulet?” 

“Why, what a silly question!” said the 


318 


THE AMULET 


Psammead, “ of course you cannot remember 
what hasn’t happened yet.” 

“ But the future hasn’t happened yet,” 
Anthea persisted, “ and we remember that 
all right.” 

“ Oh, that isn’t what’s happened, my good 
child,” said the Psammead, rather crossly, 
“that’s prophetic vision. And you remember 
dreams, don’t you? So why not visions? 
You never do seem to understand the 
simplest thing.” 

It went to sand again at once. 

Anthea crept down in her nightgown to 
give one last kiss to old Nurse, and one last 
look at the beautiful testimonial hanging, by 
its tapes, its glue now firmly set, in glazed 
glory on the wall of the kitchen. 

“ Good-night, bless your loving heart,” said 
old Nurse, “ if only you don’t catch your 
deathercold ! ” 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE SHIPWRECK ON THE TIN ISLANDS 

“ Blue and red,” said Jane softly, “ make 
purple.” 

“Not always they don’t,” said Cyril, “it has 
to be crimson lake and Prussian blue. If you 
mix Vermillion and Indigo you get the most 
loathsome slate colour.” 

“ Sepia’s the nastiest colour in the box, I 
think,” said Jane, sucking her brush. 

They were all painting. Nurse in the 
flush of grateful emotion, excited by Robert’s 
border of poppies, had presented each of the 
four with a shilling paint-box, and had supple- 
mented the gift with a pile of old copies of 
the Illustrated London News. 

“ Sepia,” said Cyril instructively, “ is made 
out of beastly cuttle-fish.” 

“ Purple’s made out of a fish, as well as out 
of red and blue,” said Robert. “ Tyrian purple 
was, I know.” 

“ Out of lobsters ? ” said Jane dreamily. 
“ They’re red when they’re boiled, and blue 

319 


320 


THE AMULET 


when they aren’t. If you mixed live and 
dead lobsters you’d get Tyrian purple. 

“/ shouldn’t like to mix anything with a 
live lobster,” said Anthea, shuddering. 

“ Well, there aren’t any other red and blue 
fish,” said Jane ; “ you’d have to.” 

“ I’d rather not have the purple,” said 
Anthea. 

“ The Tyrian purple wasn’t that colour 
when it came out of the fish, nor yet after- 
wards, it wasn’t,” said Robert ; “it was scarlet 
really, and Roman Emperors wore it. And 
it wasn’t any nice colour while the fish had 
it. It was a yellowish- white liquid of a 
creamy consistency.” 

“ How do you know ? ” asked Cyril. 

“ I read it,” said Robert with the meek pride 
of superior knowledge. 

“ Where ? ” asked Cyril. 

“In print,” said Robert, still more proudly 
meek. 

“You think everything’s true if it’s printed,” 
said Cyril, naturally annoyed, “but it isn’t. 
Father said so. Quite lot of lies get printed, 
especially in newspapers.” 

“ You see, as it happens,” said Robert, in 
what really was a rather annoying tone, “ it 
wasn’t a newspaper, it was in a hook.” 

“ How sweet Chinese white is ! ” said Jane, 
dreamily sucking her brush again. 

“ I don’t believe it,” said Cyril to Robert. 

“ Have a suck yourself,” suggested Robert. 

“ I don’t mean about the Chinese white. I 


SHIPWRECK ON TIN ISLANDS 321 


mean about the cream fish turning purple 
and ” 

“Oh!” cried Anthea, jumping up very 
quickly, “ I’m tired of painting. Let’s go 
somewhere by Amulet. I say — let’s let it 
choose.” 

Cyril and Robert agreed that this was an 
idea. Jane consented to stop painting be- 
cause, as she said, Chinese white, though 
certainly sweet, gives you a queer feeling in 
the back of the throat if you paint with it 
too long. 

The Amulet was held up. 

“ Take us somewhere,” said Jane, “ any- 
where you like in the Past — but somewhere 
where you are.” Then she said the word. 

Next moment every one felt a queer rocking 
and swaying — something like what you feel 
when you go out in a fishing boat. And that 
was not wonderful, when you come to think 
of it, for it was in a boat that they found 
themselves. A queer boat, with high bul- 
warks pierced with holes for oars to go 
through. There was a high seat for the 
steersman, and the prow was shaped like 
the head of some great animal with big, 
staring eyes. The boat rode at anchor in a 
bay, and the bay was very smooth. The 
crew were dark, wiry fellows with black 
beards and hair. They had no clothes ex- 
cept a tunic from waist to knee, and round 
caps with knobs on the top. They were 
very busy, and what they were doing was 
21 


322 


THE AMULET 


so interesting to the children that at first 
they did not even wonder where the Amulet 
had brought them. 

And the crew seemed too busy to notice the; 
children. They were fastening rush baskets 
to a long rope with a great piece of cork at 
the end, and in each basket they put mussels 
or little frogs. Then they cast out the ropes, 
the baskets sank, but the cork floated. And; 
all about on the blue water were other I 
boats and all the crews of all the boats were 
busy with ropes and baskets and frogs and 
mussels. 

“ Whatever are you doing ? ” Jane suddenly 
asked a man who had rather more clothes 
than the others, and seemed to be a sort of 
captain or overseer. He started and stared 
at her, but he had seen too many strange 
lands to be very much surprised at these 
queerly-dressed stowaways. 

“ Setting lines for the dye shell-fish,” he said 
shortly. “ How did you get here ? ” 

“A sort of magic,” said Robert carelessly. 
The Captain fingered an Amulet that hung 
round his neck. 

“ What is this place ? ” asked Cyril. 

“ Tyre, of course,” said the man. Then he 
drew back and spoke in a low voice to one of 
the sailors. 

“ Now we shall know about your precious 
cream- jug fish,” said Cyril. 

“ But we never said come to Tyre,” said 
Jane. 


( 



;r%- ^ ^ 


THEY WERE FASTENING RUSH BASKETS TO A LONG ROPE 


324 


THE AMULET 


“ The Amulet heard us talking, I expect. I 
think it’s most obliging of it,” said Anthea. 

“ And the Amulet’s here too,” said Robert. 
“We ought to be able to find it in a little ship 
like this. I wonder which of them’s got it.” 

“ Oh — look, look ! ” cried Anthea suddenly. 
On the bare breast of one of the sailors 
gleamed something red. It was the exact 
counterpart of their precious half-Amulet. 

A silence, full of emotion, was broken by 
Jane. 

“ Then we’ve found it ! ” she said. “ Oh do 
let’s take it and go home ! ” 

“ Easy to say ‘ take it,’ ” said Cyril ; “ he 
looks very strong.” 

He did — yet not so strong as the other 
sailors. 

“ It’s odd,” said Anthea musingly, “ I do 
believe I’ve seen that man somewhere before.” 

“He’s rather like our learned gentleman,” 
said Robert, “ but I’ll tell you who he’s much 
more like ” 

At this moment that sailor looked up. His 
eyes met Robert’s — and Robert and the others 
had no longer any doubt as to where they 
had seen him before. It was Rekh-mara, the 
priest who had led them to the palace of 
Pharaoh — and whom Jane had looked back 
at through the arch, when he was counsel- 
ling Pharaoh’s guard to take the jewels and 
fly for his life. 

Nobody was quite pleased, and nobody quite 
knew why. 


SHIPWRECK ON TIN ISLANDS 325 


Jane voiced the feelings of all when she 
said, fingering their Amulet through the folds 
of her frock, “We can go back in a minute if 
anything nasty happens.” 

For the moment nothing worse happened 
than an offer of food — figs and cucumbers it 
was, and very pleasant. 

“I see,” said the Captain, “that you are 
from a far country. Since you have honoured 
my boat by appearing on it, you must stay 
here till morning. Then I will lead you to 
one of onr great ones. He loves strangers 
from far lands.” 

“ Let’s go home,” J ane whispered, “ all the 
frogs are drowning note. I think the people 
here are cruel.” 

But the boys wanted to stay and see the 
lines taken up in the morning. 

“It’s just like eel-pots and lobster-pots,” said 
Cyril, “ the baskets only open from outside — 
I vote we stay.” 

So they stayed. 

“ That’s Tyre over there,” said the Captain, 
who was evidently trying to be civil. He 
pointed to a great island rock, that rose 
steeply from the sea, crowned with huge 
walls and towers. There was another city 
on the mainland. 

“ That’s part of Tyre, too,” said the Captain ; 
“it’s where the great merchants have their 
pleasure-houses and gardens and farms.” 

“ Look, look ! ” Cyril cried suddenly ; “ what 
a lovely little ship ! ” 


326 


THE AMULET 


A ship in full sail was passing swiftly 
through the fishing fleet. The Captain’s face 
changed. He frowned, and his eyes blazed 
with fury. 

“ Insolent young barbarian ! ” he cried. 
“ Do you call the ships of Tyre little ? None 
greater sail the seas. That ship has been on 
a three years’ voyage. She is known in all 
the great trading ports from here to the Tin 
Islands. She comes back rich and glorious. 
Her very anchor is of silver.” 

“ I’m sure we beg your pardon,” said Anthea 
hastily. “ In our country we say ‘ little ’ for 
a pet name. Your wife might call you her 
dear little husband, you know.” 

“ I should like to catch her at it,” growled 
the Captain, but he stopped scowling. 

“ It’s a rich trade,” he went on. “ For cloth 
once dipped, second-best glass, and the rough 
images our young artists carve for practice, 
the barbarian King in Tessos lets us work the 
silver mines. We get so much silver there 
that we leave them our iron anchors and 
come back with silver ones.” 

“ How splendid ! ” said Robert. “ Do go on. 
What’s cloth once dipped?” 

“You must be barbarians from the outer 
darkness,” said the Captain scornfully. “All 
wealthy nations know that our finest stuffs 
are twice dyed— dibaptha. They’re only for 
the robes of kings and priests and princes.” 

“ What do the rich merchants wear,” asked 
Jane, with interest, “ in the pleasure-houses?” 


SHIPWRECK ON TIN ISLANDS 327 


“ They wear the dibaptha. Our merchants 
are princes,” scowled the skipper. 

“ Oh, don’t be cross, we do so like hearing 
about things. We want to know all about 
the dyeing,” said Anthea cordially. 

“Oh, you do, do you?” growled the man. 
“So that’s what you’re here for ? Well, you 
won’t get the secrets of the dye trade out of 
me.” 

He went away, and every one felt snubbed 
and uncomfortable. And all the time the 
long, narrow eyes of the Egyptian were 
watching, watching. They felt as though he 
were watching them even through the dark- 
ness, when they lay down to sleep on a pile of 
cloaks. 

Next morning the baskets were drawn up 
full of what looked like whelk shells. 

The children were rather in the way, but 
they made themselves as small as they could. 
While the skipper was at the other end of the 
boat they did ask one question of a sailor, 
whose face was a little less unkind than the 
others. 

“ Yes,” he answered, “ this is the dye-fish. 
It’s a sort of murex — and there’s another kind 
that they catch at Sidon — and then, of course, 
there’s the kind that’s used for the dibaptha. 
But that’s quite different. It’s ” 

“ Hold your tongue ! ” shouted the skipper. 
And the man held it. 

The laden boat was rowed slowly round the 
end of the island, and was made fast in one 


328 


THE AMULET 


of the two great harbours that lay inside a 
long breakwater. The harbour was full of all 
sorts of ships, so that Cyril and Robert enjoyed 
themselves much more than their sisters. 
The breakwater and the quays were heaped 
with bales and baskets, and crowded with 
slaves and sailors. Farther along some men 
were practising diving. 

“ That’s jolly good,” said Robert, as a naked 
brown body cleft the water. 

“ I should think so,” said the skipper. “ The 
pearl-divers of Persia are not more skilful. 
Why, we’ve got a fresh-water spring that 
comes out at the bottom of the sea. Our 
divers dive down and bring up the fresh 
water in skin bottles ! Can your barbarian 
divers do as much ? ” 

“ I suppose not,” said Robert, and put 
away a wild desire to explain to the Captain 
the English system of waterworks, pipes, 
taps, and the intricacies of the plumbers’ 
trade. 

As they neared the quay the skipper made 
a hasty toilet. He did his hair, combed his 
beard, put on a garment like a jersey with 
short sleeves, an embroidered belt, a necklace 
of beads, and a big signet ring. 

“ Now,” said he, “ I’m fit to be seen. Come 
along ? ” 

“Where to?” asked Jane cautiously. 

“To Pheles, the great sea-captain,” said the 
skipper. “ The man I told you of, who loves 
barbarians.” 


\ 



that’s jolly good,” said 

CLEFT 


ROBERT, AS A NAKED BROWN BODY 
THE WATER. 




830 


THE AMULET 


Then Rekh-mara came forward, and, for the 
first time, spoke. 

“ I have known these children in another | 
land,” he said. “ You know my powers of t 
magic. It was my magic that brought these ; 
barbarians to your boat. And you know, how 
they will profit you. I read your thoughts. 
Let me come with you and see the end of 
them, and then I will work the spell I 
promised you in return for the little 
experience you have so kindly given me on 
your boat.” 

The skipper looked at the Egyptian with 
some disfavour. 

“ So it was your doing,” he said. “ I might 
have guessed it. Well, come on.” 

So he came, and the girls wished he hadn’t. 
But Robert whispered — 

“ Nonsense — as long as he’s with us we’ve 
got some chance of the Amulet. We can 
always fly if anything goes wrong.” 

The morning was so fresh and bright ; their 
breakfast had been so good and so unusual ; 
they had actually seen the Amulet round the 
Egyptian’s neck. One or two, or all these 
things, suddenly raised the children’s spirits. 
They went off quite cheerfully through the 
city gate — it was not arched, but roofed over 
with a great flat stone — and so through the 
streets, which smelt horribly of fish and garlic 
and a thousand other things even less agree- 
able. But far worse than the street scents 
was the scent of the factory, where the 


SHIPWRECK ON TIN ISLANDS 331 


skipper called in to sell his night’s catch. I 
wish I could tell you all about that factory, 
but I haven’t time, and perhaps after all you 
aren’t interested in dyeing works. I will only 
mention that Robert was triumphantly proved 
to be right. The dye was a yellowish-white 
liquid of a creamy consistency, and it smelt 
more strongly of garlic than garlic itself does. 

While the skipper was bargaining with the 
master of the dye works the Egyptian came 
close to the children and said, suddenly and 
softly — 

“ Trust me.” 

“ I wish we could,” said Anthea. 

“ You feel,” said the Egyptian, “ that I 
want your Amulet. That makes you distrust 
me.” 

“Yes,” said Cyril bluntly. 

“ But you also, you want my Amulet, and 
I am trusting you.” 

“ There’s something in that,” said Robert. 

“ We have the two halves of the Amulet,” 
said the Priest, “ but not yet the pin that 
joined them. Our only chance of getting 
that is to remain together. Once part these 
two halves and they may never again be 
found in the same time and place. Be wise. 
Our interests are the same.” 

Before any one could say more the skipper 
came back, and with him the dye-master. 
His hair and beard were curled like the 
men’s in Babylon, and he was dressed like 
the skipper, but with added grandeur of gold 


332 


THE AMULET 


and embroidery. He had necklaces of beads | 
and silver, and a glass amulet with a man’s 
face, very like his own, set between two bulls’ 
heads, as well as gold and silver bracelets and 
armlets. He looked keenly at the children. 
Then he said — 

“ My brother Pheles has just come back from 
Tarshish. He’s at his garden house — unless 
he’s hunting wild boar in the marshes. He 
gets frightfully bored on shore.” 

“ Ah,” said the skipper, “ he’s a true-born 
Phoenician. ‘ Tyre, Tyre for ever ! Oh, Tyre 
rules the waves ! ’ as the old song says. I’ll 
go at once, and show him my young 
barbarians.” 

“ I should,” said the dye-master. “ They 
are very rum, aren’t they? What frightful 
clothes, and what a lot of them ! Observe 
the covering of their feet. Hideous indeed.” 

Robert could not help thinking how easy, 
and at the same time pleasant it would be 
to catch hold of the dye-master’s feet and tip 
him backward into the great sunken vat just 
near him. But if he had, flight would have 
had to be the next move, so he restrained his 
impulse. 

There was something about this Tyrian 
adventure that was different from all the 
others. It was, somehow, calmer. And there 
was the undoubted fact that the charm was 
there on the neck of the Egyptian. 

So they enjoyed everything to the full, the 
row from the Island City to the shore, the 


SHIPWRECK ON TIN ISLANDS 333 


ride on the donkeys that the skipper hired 
at the gate of the mainland city, and the 
pleasant country — palms and figs and cedars 
all about. It was like a garden — clematis, 
honeysuckle, and jasmine clung about the 
olive and mulberry trees, and there were 
tulips and gladiolus, and clumps of mandrake, 
which has bell-flowers that look as though 
they were cut out of dark blue jewels. In 
the distance were the mountains of Lebanon. 

The house they came to at last was rather 
like a bungalow — long and low, with pillars 
all along the front. Cedars and sycamores 
grew near it and sheltered it pleasantly. 

Every one dismounted, and the donkeys 
were led away. 

“ Why is this like Rosherville ? ” whispered 
Robert, and instantly supplied the answer. 

“Because it’s the place to spend a happy 
day.” 

“ It’s jolly decent of the skipper to have 
brought us to such a ripping place,” said Cyril. 

“ Do you know,” said Anthea,” “ this feels 
more real than anything else we’ve seen? 
It’s like a holiday in the country at home.” 

The children were left alone in a large hall. 
The floor was mosaic, done with wonderful 
pictures of ships and sea-beasts and fishes. 
Through an open doorway they could see a 
pleasant courtyard with flowers. 

“ I should like to spend a week here,” said 
Jane, “ and donkey ride every day.” 

Everyone was feeling very jolly. Even the 


334 


THE AMULET 


Egyptian looked pleasanter than usual. And 
then, quite suddenly, the skipper came back 
with a joyous smile. With him came the 
master of the house. He looked steadily at 
the children and nodded twice. 

“ Yes,” he said, “ my steward will pay you 
the price. But I shall not pay at that high 
rate for the Egyptian dog.” 

The two passed on. 

“ This,” said the Egyptian, “is a pretty 
kettle of fish.” 

“ What is ? ” asked all the children at once. 

“ Our present position,” said Rekh-mara. 
“ Our seafaring friend,” he added, “ has sold 
us all for slaves ! ” 


A hasty council succeeded the shock of this 
announcement. The Priest was allowed to 
take part in it. His advice was “ stay,” 
because they were in no danger, and the 
Amulet in its completeness must be some- 
where near, or, of course, they could not 
have come to that place at all. And after 
some discussion they agreed to this. 

The children were treated more as guests 
than as slaves, but the Egyptian was sent 
to the kitchen and made to work. 

Pheles, the master of the house, went off 
that very evening, by the King’s orders, to 
start on another voyage. And when he was 
gone his wife found the children amusing 
company, and kept them talking and singing 


SHIPWRECK ON TIN ISLANDS 335 


and dancing till quite late, “To distract my 
mind from my sorrows,” she said. 

“I do like being a slave,” remarked Jane 
cheerfully, as they curled up on the big, soft 
cushions that were to be their beds. 

It was black night when they were 
awakened, each by a hand passed softly 
over its face, and a low voice that whispered — 

“ Be quiet, or all is lost.” 

So they were quiet. 

“ It’s me, Rekh-mara, the Priest of Amen,” 
said the whisperer. “ The man who brought 
us has gone to sea again, and he has taken 
my Amulet from me by force, and I know 
no magic to get it back. “ Is there magic 
for that in the Amulet you bear ? ” 

Every one was instantly awake by now. 

“We can go after him,” said Cyril, leaping 
up ; “ but he might take ours as well ; or he 
might be angry with us for following him.” 

“I’ll see to that,'' said the Egyptian in the 
dark. “ Hide your Amulet well.” 

There in the deep blackness of that room 
in the Tyrian country house the Amulet was 
once more held up and the word spoken. 

All passed through on to a ship that tossed 
and tumbled on a wind-blown sea. They 
crouched together there till morning, and 
Jane and Cyril were not at all well. When 
the dawn showed, dove-coloured, across the 
steely waves, they stood up as well as they 
could for the tumbling of the ship. Pheles, 
that hardy sailor and adventurer, turned 


336 


THE AMULET 


quite pale when he turned round suddenly 
and saw them. 

“Well!” he said, “well, I never did!” 

“Master,” said the Egyptian, bowing low, 
and that was even more difficult than standing 
up, “ we are here by the magic of the sacred 
Amulet that hangs round your neck.” 

“I never did!” repeated Pheles. “Well, 
well ! ” 

“ What port is the ship bound for ? ” asked 
Robert, with a nautical air. 

But Pheles said, “ Are you a navigator ? ” 
Robert had to own that he was not. 

“ Then,” said Pheles, “ I don’t mind telling 
you that we’re bound for the Tin Isles. Tyre 
alone knows where the Tin Isles are. It is 
the splendid secret we keep from all the 
world. It is as great a thing to us as your 
magic to you.” 

He spoke in quite a new voice, and seemed 
to respect both the children and the Amulet 
a good deal more than he had done before. 

“ The King sent you, didn’t he ? ” said Jane. 

“Yes,” answered Pheles, “he bade me set 
sail with half a score brave gentlemen and 
this crew. You shall go with us, and see 
many wonders.” He bowed and left them. 

“ What are we going to do now ? ” said 
Robert, when Pheles had caused them to be 
left alone with a breakfast of dried fruits 
and a sort of hard biscuit. 

“ Wait till he lands in the Tin Isles,” said 
Rekh-mara, “ then we can get the barbarians 


SHIPWRECK ON TIN ISLANDS 337 


; to help us. We will attack him by night and 
I tear the sacred Amulet from his accursed 
heathen neck,” he added, grinding his teeth. 

“When shall we get to the Tin Isles?” 

I asked Jane. 

“ Oh — six months, perhaps, or d year,” said 
{ the Egyptian cheerfully. 

1 “A year of this V' cried Jane, and Cyril, 
j who was still feeling far too unwell to care 
j about breakfast, hugged himself miserably 
and shuddered. 

I It was Robert who said— 

' “Look here, we can shorten that year. 
Jane, out with the Amulet ! Wish that we 
were where the Amulet will be when the 
ship is twenty miles from the Tin Islands. 
That’ll give us time to mature our plans.” 

It was done — the work of a moment — and 
there they were on the same ship, between 
gray northern sky and gray northern sea. 
The sun was setting in a pale yellow line. 
It was the same ship, but it was changed, 
and so were the crew. Weather-worn and 
dirty were the sailors, and their clothes torn 
and ragged. And the children saw that, of 
course, though they had skipped the nine 
months, the ship had had to live through 
them. Pheles looked thinner, and his face 
was rugged and anxious. 

“ Ha ! ” he cried, “ the charm has brought 
you back ! I have prayed to it daily these 
nine months — and now you are here? Have 
you no magic that can help?” 

22 


338 


THE AMULET 


“ What is your need ? ” asked the Egyptian 
quietly. 

“ I need a great wave that shall whelm 
away the foreign ship that follows us. A 
month ago it lay in wait for us, by the pillars 
of the gods, and it follows, follows, to find 
out the secret of Tyre — the place of the Tin 
Islands. If I could steer by night I could 
escape them yet, but to-night there will be 
no stars.” 

“My magic will not serve you here,” said 
the Egyptian. 

But Robert said, “ My magic will not bring 
up great waves, but I can show you how to 
steer without stars.” 

He took out the shilling compass, still, 
fortunately, in working order, that he had 
bought of another boy at school for fivepence, 
a piece of indiarubber, a strip of w halebone, 
and half a stick of red sealing-wax. 

And he showed Pheles how it worked. 
And Pheles wondered at the compass’s 
magic truth. 

“ I will give it to you,” Robert said, “ in 
return for that charm about your neck.” 

Pheles made no answer. He first laughed, 
snatched the compass from Robert’s hand, 
and turned away still laughing. 

“ Be comforted,” the Priest whispered, “ our 
time will come.” 

The dusk deepened, and Pheles, crouched 
beside a dim lantern, steered by the shilling 
compass from the Crystal Palace. 



PHELES, CROUCHED BESIDE 


A DIM LANTERN 
THE SHILLING COMPASS. 


Ilf 




n 



340 


THE AMULET 


No one ever knew how the other ship 
sailed, but suddenly, in the deep night, the 
look-out man at the stern cried out in a 
terrible voice — 

“ She is close upon us ! ” 

“ And we,” said Pheles, “ are close to the 
harbour.” He was silent a moment, then 
suddenly he altered the ship’s course, and 
then he stood up and spoke. 

“ Good friends and gentlemen,” he said, 
“ who are bound with me in this brave 
venture by our King’s command, the false, 
foreign ship is close on our heels. , If we 
land, they land, and only the gods know 
whether they might not beat us in fight, 
and themselves survive to carry back the 
tale of Tyre’s secret island to enrich their 
own miserable land. Shall this be ? ” 

“Never!” cried the half-dozen men near 
him. The slaves were rowing hard below 
and could not hear his words. 

The Egyptian leaped upon him ; suddenly, 
fiercely, as a wild beast leaps. “ Give me 
back my Amulet,” he cried, and caught at 
the charm. The chain that held it snapped, 
and it lay in the Priest’s hand. 

Pheles laughed, standing balanced to the 
leap of the ship that answered the oar- 
stroke. 

“This is no time for charms and mum- 
meries,” he said. “ We’ve lived like men, and 
we’ll die like gentlemen for the honour and 
glory of Tyre, our splendid city. ‘ Tyre, 


SHIPWRECK ON TIN ISLANDS 341 


Tyre for ever ! It’s Tyre that rules the 
waves.’ I steer her straight for the Dragon 
rocks, and we go down for our city, as brave 
men should. The creeping cowards who 
follow shall go down as slaves — and slaves 
they shall be to us — when we live again. 
Tyre, Tyre for ever ! ” 

A great shout went up, and the slaves 
below joined in it. 

“ Quick, the Amulet,” cried Anthea, and 
held it up. Rekh-mara held up the one he 
had snatched from Pheles. The word was 
spoken, and the two great arcl^es grew on 
the plunging ship in the shrieking of wind 
under the dark sky. From each Amulet a 
great and beautiful green light streamed 
and shone far out over the waves. It illu- 
minated, too, the black faces and jagged 
teeth of the great rocks that lay not two 
ships’ lengths from the boat’s peaked nose. 

“ Tyre, Tyre for ever ! It’s Tyre that rules 
the waves!” the voices of the doomed rose in 
a triumphant shout. The children scrambled 
through the arch, and stood trembling and 
blinking in the Fitzroy Street parlour, and 
in their ears still sounded the whistle of the 
wind, the rattle of the oars, the crash of 
the ship’s bow on the rocks, and the last 
shout of the brave gentlemen-adventurers 
who went to their death singing, for the 
sake of the city they loved. 





^ w ^ 


SHIPWRECK ON TIN ISLANDS 343 


“ And so we’ve lost the other half of 
the Amulet again,” said Anthea, when they 
had told the Psammead all about it. 

“ Nonsense, pooh ! ” said the Psammead. 
“That wasn’t the other half. 'It was the 
same half that you’ve got — the one that 
wasn’t crushed and lost.” 

“ But how could it be the same ? ” said 
Anthea gently. 

“ Well, not exactly, of course. The one 
you’ve got is a good many years older, but 
at any rate it’s not the other one.” 

“ What did you say when you wished ? ” 

“ I forget,” said Jane. 

“I don’t,” said the Psammead. “ You said, 
‘ Take us where you are ’ — and it did, so 
you see it was the same half.” 

“ I see,” said Anthea. 

“ But yor^ mark my words,” the Psammead 
went on, “ you’ll have trouble with that 
Priest yet.” 

“ Why, he was quite friendly,” said Anthea. 

“ All the same, you’d better beware of the 
Reverend Rekh-mara.” 

“Oh, I’m sick of the Amulet,” said Cyril, 
“ we shall never get it.” 

“ Oh yes we shall,” said Robert. “ Don’t 
you remember December 3rd?” 

“Jinks ! ” said Cyril, “I’d forgotten that.” 

“ I don’t believe it,” said Jane, “and I don’t 
feel at all well.” 

“If I were you,” said the Psammead, “ I 
should not go out into the Past again till 


344 


THE AMULET 


that date. You’ll find it safer not to go 
where you’re likely to meet that Egyptian 
any more just at present.” 

“ Of course we’ll do as you say,” said 
Anthea soothingly, “ though there’s some- 
thing about his face that I really do like.” 

“Still, you don’t want to run after him, I 
suppose,” snapped the Psammead. “ You wait 
till the 3rd, and then see what happens.” 

Cyril and Jane were feeling far from well, 
Anthea was always obliging, so Robert was 
overruled. And they promised. And none 
of them, not even the Psammead, at all 
foresaw, as you no doubt do quite plainly, 
exactly what it was that tvould happen on 
that memorable date. 


CHAPTER Xiy 


THE heart’s desire 

If I only had time I could tell you lots of 
things. For instance, how, in spite of the 
advice of the Psammead, the four children did, 
one very wet day, go through their Amulet 
Arch into the golden desert, and there find the 
great Temple of Baalbec and meet with the 
Phoenix whom they never thought to see 
again. And how the Phoenix did not re- 
member them at all until it went into a sort 
of prophetic trance — if that can be called 
remembering. But, alas ! I haven t time, so 
I must leave all that out though it was a 
wonderfully thrilling adventure. I must leave 
out, too, all about the visit of the children to 
the Hippodrome with the Psammead in its 
travelling bag, and about how the wishes of 
the people round about them were granted so 
suddenly and surprisingly that at last the 
Psammead had to be taken hurriedly home 
by Anthea, who consequently missed half the 
performance. Then there was the time when, 
Nurse having gone to tea with a friend out 

345 


346 


THE AMULET 


Ivalunk way, they were playing “ devil in the 
dark ” — and in the midst of that most creepy 
pastime the postman’s knock frightened Jane 
nearly out of her life. She took in the letters, 
however, and put them in the back of the 
hat-stand drawer, so that they should be safe. 
And safe they were, for she never thought of 
them again for weeks and weeks. 

One really good thing happened when they 
took the Psammead to a magic-lantern show 
and lecture at the boys’ school at Camden 
Town. The lecture was all about our soldiers 
in South Africa. And the lecturer ended up 
by saying, “ And I hope every boy in this 
room has in his heart the seeds of courage 
and heroism and self-sacrifice, and I wish 
that every one of you may grow up to be 
noble and brave and unselfish, worthy citizens 
of this great Empire for whom our soldiers 
have freely given their lives.” 

And, of course, this came true — which was 
a distinct score for Camden Town. 

As Anthea said, it was unlucky that the 
lecturer said boys, because now she and Jane 
would have to be noble and unselfish, if at all, 
without any outside help. But Jane said, “ I 
daresay we are already because of our beau- 
tiful natures. It’» only boys that have to he 
made brave by magic ” — which nearly led to a 
first-class row. 

And I daresay you would like to know all 
about the affair of the fishing rod, and the 
fish-hooks, and the cook next door — which 


THE HEART’S DESIRE 


347 


was amusing from some points of view, 
though not perhaps the cook’s — but there 
really is no time even for that. 

The only thing that there’s time to tell 
about is the Adventure of Maskelyne and 
Cooke’s, and the Unexpected Apparition — 
which is also the beginning of the end. 

It was Nurse who broke into the gloomy 
music of the autumn rain on the window 
panes by suggesting a visit to the Egyptian 
Hall, England’s Home of Mystery. Though 
they had good, but private reasons to know 
that their own particular personal mystery 
was of a very different brand, the four all 
brightened at the idea. All children, as well 
as a good many grown-ups, love conjuring. 

“ It’s in Piccadilly,” said old Nurse, carefully 
counting out the proper number of shillings 
into Cyril’s hand, “ not so very far down on 
the left from the Circus. There’s big pillars 
outside, something like Carter’s seed place in 
Holborn, as used to be Day and Martin’s 
blacking when I was a gell. And something 
like Euston Station, only not so big.” 

“ Yes, I know,” said everybody. 

So they started. 

But though they walked along the left-hand 
side of Piccadilly they saw no pillared build- 
ing that was at all like Carter’s seed ware- 
house or Euston Station or England’s Home 
of Mystery as they remembered it. 

^ At last they stopped a hurried lady, and 
asked her the way to Maskelyne and Cooke’s. 


348 


THE AMULET 


“ I don’t know, I’m sure,” she said, pushing 
past them. “I always shop at the Stores.” 
Which just shows, as Jane said, how 
ignorant grown-up people are. 

It was a policeman who at last explained to 
them that England’s Mysteries are now ap- 
propriately enough enacted at St. George’s 
Hall. So they tramped to Langham Place, 
and missed the first two items in the pro- 
gramme. But they were in time for the most 
wonderful magic appearances and disappear- 
ances, which they could hardly believe — even 
with all their knowledge of a larger magic — 
was not really magic after all. 

“ If only the Babylonians could have seen 
this conjuring,” whispered Cyril. “ It takes the 
shine out of their old conjurers, doesn’t it ? ” 

“ Hush ! ” said Anthea and several other 
members of the audience. 

Now there was a vacant seat next to 
Robert. And it was when all eyes were 
fixed on the stage where Mr. Devant was 
pouring out glasses of all sorts of different 
things to drink, out of one kettle with one 
spout, and the audience were delightedly tast- 
ing them, that Robert felt some one in that 
vacant seat. He did not feel some one sit 
down in it. It was just that one moment 
there was no one sitting there, and the next 
moment, suddenly, there was some one. 

Robert turned. The some one who had 
suddenly filled that empty place was Rekh- 
mara, the Priest of Amen ! 


THE HEAKT’S DESIRE 


349 


Though the eyes of the audience were fixed 
on Mr. David Devant, Mr. David Devant’s 
eyes were fixed on the audience And it 
happened that his eyes were more particularly 
fixed on that empty chair. So that he saw 
quite plainly the sudden appearance, from 
nowhere, of the Egyptian Priest. 

“ A jolly good trick,” he said to .himself, 
“ and worked under my own eyes, in my own 
hall.” I’ll find out how that’s done.” He had 
never seen a trick that he could not do him- 
self if he tried. 

By this time a good many eyes in the 
audience had turned on the clean-shaven, 
curiously-dressed figure of the Egyptian 
Priest. 

“ Ladies and gentlemen,” said Mr. Devant, 
rising to the occasion, “ this is a trick I have 
never before performed. The empty seat, 
third from the end, second row, gallery — you 
will now find occupied by an Ancient Egyp- 
tian, warranted genuine.” 

He little knew how true his words were. 

And now all eyes were turned on the Priest 
and the children, and the whole audience, 
after a moment’s breathless surprise, shouted 
applause. Only the lady on the other side of 
Rekh-mara drew back a little. She hneio no 
one had passed her, and, as she said later, 
over tea and cold tongue, “ it was that sudden 
it made her flesh creep.” 

Rekh-mara seemed very much annoyed at 
the notice he was exciting. 


350 


THE AMULET 


“ Come out of this crowd,” he whispered to 
Kobert. “ I must talk with you apart.” 

“ Oh, no,” Jane whispered. “ I did so want 
to see the Mascot Moth, and the Ventrilo- 
quist.” 

“ How did you get here ? ” was Robert’s 
return whisper. 

“ How did you get to Egypt and to Tyre ? ’* 
retorted Rekh-mara. “ Come, let us leave this 
crowd.” 

“There’s no help for it, I suppose,” Robert 
shrugged angrily. But they all got up. 

“ Confederates ! ” said a man in the row 
behind. “ Now they go round to the back 
and take part in the next scene.” 

“ I wish we did,” said Robert. 

“ Confederate yourself ! ” said Cyril. And 
so they got away, the audience applauding 
to the last. 

In the vestibule of St. George’s Hall they 
disguised Rekh-mara as well as they could, 
but even with Robert’s hat and Cyril’s Inver- 
ness cape he was too striking a figure for 
foot-exercise in the London streets. It had 
to he a cab, and it took the last, least money 
of all of them. They stopped the cab a few 
doors from home, and then the girls went 
in and engaged old Nurse’s attention by an 
account of the conjuring and a fervent 
entreaty for dripping-toast with their tea, 
leaving the front door open so that while 
Nurse was talking to them the boys could 
creep quietly in with Rekh-mara and smuggle 


THE HEAKT’S DESIRE 351 

him, unseen, up the stairs into their bed- 
room. 

When the girls came up they found the 
Egyptian Priest sitting on the side of Cyril’s 
bed, his hands on his knees, looking like a 
statue of a king. 

“ Come on,” said Cyril impatiently. “ He 
won’t begin till we’re all here. And shut the 
door, can’t you ? ” 

When the door was shut the Egyptian 
said — 

“ My interests and yours are one.” 

“Very interesting,” said Cyril, “and it’ll be 
a jolly sight more interesting if you keep 
following us about in a decent country with 
no more clothes on than that!'' 

“ Peace,” said the Priest. “ What is this 
country ? and what is this time d " 

“ The country’s England,” said Anthea, “ and 
the time’s about six thousand years later than 
your time.” 

“ The Amulet, then,” said the Priest, deeply 
thoughtful, “ gives the power to move to and 
fro in time as well as in space ? ” 

“ That’s about it,” said Cyril gruffly. “ Look 
here, it’ll be tea-time directly. What are we 
to do with you ? ” 

“You have one-half of the Amulet, I the 
other,” said Rekh-mara. “ All that is now 
needed is the pin to join them.” 

“ Don’t you think it,” said Robert. “ The 
half you’ve got is the same half as the one 
we’ve got.” 


352 


THE AMULET 


“ But the same thing cannot be in the same 
place and the same time, and yet be not one, 
but twain,” said the Priest. “ See, here is my 
half.” He laid it on the Marcella counter- 
pane. “ Where is yours ? ” 

Jane, watching the eyes of the others, un- 
fastened the string of the Amulet and laid it 
on the bed, but too far off for the Priest to 
seize it, even if he had been so dishonourable. 
Cyril and Robert stood beside him, ready to 
spring on him if one of his hands had moved 
but ever so little towards the magic treasure 
that was theirs. But his hands did not move, 
only his eyes opened very wide, and so did 
every one else’s, for the Amulet the Priest had 
now quivered and shook ; and then, as steel is 
drawn to the magnet, it was drawn across the 
white counterpane, nearer and nearer to the 
Amulet, warm from the neck of Jane. And 
then, as one drop of water mingles with 
another on a rain-wrinkled window-pane, as 
one bead of quicksilver is drawn into another 
bead, Rekh-mara’s Amulet slipped into the 
other one, and, behold ! there was no more 
but the one Amulet ! 

“ Black magic ! ” cried Rekh-mara, and 
sprang forward to snatch the Amulet that 
had swallowed his. But Anthea caught it 
up, and at the same moment the Priest was 
jerked back by a rope thrown over his head. 
It drew, tightened with the pull of his 
forward leap, and bound his elbows to his 
sides. Before he had time to use his strength 



THE PEIEST WAS JERKED BACK BY A ROPE THROWN OVER HIS HEAD. 



23 


354 


THE AMULET 


to free himself, Robert had knotted the cord 
behind him and tied it to the bedpost. Then 
the four children, overcoming the priest’s 
wrigglings and kickings, tied his legs with 
more rope. 

“ I thought,” said Robert, breathing hard, 
and drawing the last knot tight, “ he’d have 
a try for Ours, so I got the ropes out of the 
box-room so as to be ready.” 

The girls, with rather white faces, applauded 
his foresight. 

“ Loosen these bonds ! ” cried Rekh-mara in 
fury, “ before I blast you with the seven secret 
curses of Amen-Ra ! ” 

“We shouldn’t be likely to loose them after,'' 
Robert retorted. 

“ Oh, don’t quarrel ! ” said Anthea des- 
perately. “ Look here, he has just as much 
right to the thing as we have. This,” she 
took up the Amulet that had swallowed the 
other one, “ this has got his in it as well as 
being ours. Let’s go shares.” 

“ Let me go ! ” cried the Priest, writhing. 

“Now, look here,” said Robert, “if you 
make a row we can just open that window 
and call the police — the guards, you know 
— and tell them you’ve been trying to rob 
us. Now will you shut up and listen to 
reason ? ” 

“ I suppose so,” said Rekh-mara sulkily. 

But reason could not be spoken to him till 
a whispered counsel had been held in the 
far corner by the wash-hand-stand and the 


THE HEART’S DESIRE 


355 


towel-horse, a counsel rather long and very 
earnest. 

At last Anthea detached herself from the 
group, and went back to the Priest. 

“ Look here,” she said in her kind little 
voice, “we want to be friends. We want 
to help you. Let’s make a treaty. Let’s join 
together to get the Amulet — the whole one, I 
mean. And then it shall belong to you as 
much as to us, and we shall all get our hearts’ 
desire.” 

“Fair words,” said the Priest, “grow no 
onions.” 

“ We say, ‘ Butter no parsnips,’ ” Jane put 
in. “ But don’t you see we tvant to be fair ? 
Only we want to bind you in the chains of 
honour and upright dealing.” 

“ Will you deal fairly by us ? ” said 
Robert. 

“ I will,” said the Priest. “ By the sacred, 
secret name that is written under the Altar 
of Amen-Ra, I will deal fairly by you. Will 
you, too, take the oath of honourable partner- 
ship ? ” 

“ No,” said Anthea, on the instant, and 
added rather rashly, “We don’t swear in 
England, except in police-courts, where the 
guards are, you know, and you don’t want to 
go there. But when we say we’ll do a thing 
— it’s the same as an oath to us — we do 
it. You trust us, and we’ll trust you.” 
She began to unbind his legs, and the boys 
hastened to untie his arms. 


356 


THE AMULET 


When he was free he stood up, stretched his 
arms, and laughed. 

“Now,” he said, “I am stronger than you, 
and my oath is void. I have sworn by 
nothing, and my oath is nothing likewise. 
For there is no secret, sacred name under the 
altar of Amen-Ra.” 

“ Oh, yes there is ! ” said a voice from under 
the bed. Every one started — Rekh-mara most 
of all. 

Cyril stooped and pulled out the bath of 
sand where the Psammead slept. 

“You don’t know everything, though you 
are a Divine Father of the Temple of Amen,” 
said the Psammead shaking itself till the sand 
fell tinkling on the bath edge. “There is a 
secret, sacred name beneath the altar of 
Amen-Ra. Shall I call on that name ? ” 

“No, no!” cried the Priest in terror. “No,” 
said Jane, too. “Don’t let’s have any calling 
names.” 

“ Besides,” said Rekh-mara, who had turned 
very white indeed under his natural 
brownness, “ I was only going to say that 
though there isn’t any name under ” 

“There ^s,” said the Psammead threaten- 
ingly. 

“Well, even if there loasnt, I will be bound 
by the wordless oath of your strangely 
upright land, and having said that I will be 
your friend — I will be it.” 

“Then that’s all right,” said the Psammead; 
“ and there’s the tea-bell. What are you 


THE HEART’S DESIRE 


357 


going to do with your distinguished partner ? 
He can’t go down to tea like that, you know.” 

“ You see we can’t do anything till the 3rd 
of December,” said Anthea, “ that’s when we 
are to find the whole charm. What can we 
do with Rekh-mara till then ? ” 

“ Box-room,” said Cyril briefly, “ and 
smuggle up his meals. It will be rather 
fun.” 

“Like a fleeting Cavalier concealed from 
exasperated Roundheads,” said Robert. 
“Yes.” 

So Rekh-mara was taken up to the box- 
room and made as comfortable as possible 
in a snug nook between an old nursery fender 
and the wreck of a big four-poster. They 
gave him a big rag-bag to sit on, and an old, 
moth-eaten fur coat off the nail on the door 
to keep him warm. And when they had 
had their own tea they took him some. He 
did not like the tea at all, but he liked the 
bread and butter, and cake that went with it. 
They took it in turns to sit with him during 
the evening, and left him fairly happy and 
quite settled for the night. 

But when they went up in the morning 
with a kipper, a quarter of which each of 
them had gone without at breakfast, Rekh- 
mara was gone ! There was the cosy corner 
with the rag-bag, and the moth-eaten fur 
coat — but the cosy corner was empty. 

“ Good riddance ! ” was naturally the first 
delightful thought in each mind. The second 


358 


THE AMULET 


was less pleasing, because every one at once 
remembered that since his Amulet had been 
swallowed up by theirs — which hung once 
more round the neck of Jane — he could have 
no possible means of returning to his 
Egyptian past. Therefore he must be still in 
England, and probably somewhere quite near 
them, plotting mischief. 

The attic was searched, to prevent mistakes, 
but quite vainly. 

“ The best thing we can do,” said Cyril, “ is 
to go through the half Amulet straight aw^ay, 
get the whole Amulet, and come back.” 

“ I don’t know,” Anthea hesitated. “ Would 
that be quite fair ? Perhaps he isn’t really a 
base deceiver. Perhaps something’s happened 
to him.” 

“Happened?” said Cyril, “not it! Besides, 
what could happen?” 

“ I don’t know,” said Anthea. “ Perhaps 
burglars came in the night, and accidentally 
killed him, and took away the — all that was 
mortal of him, you know — to avoid discovery.” 

“ Or perhaps,” said Cyril, “ they hid the — 
all that was mortal, in one of those big trunks 
in the box-room. Shall we go hack and look ? ” 
he added grimly. 

“No, no 1” Jane shuddered. “Let’s go and 
tell the Psammead and see what it says.” 

“No,” said Anthea, “let’s ask the learned 
gentleman. If anything has happened to 
Rekh-mara a gentleman’s advice would be 
more useful than a Psammead’s. And the 


THE HEART’S DESIRE 


359 


learned gentleman’ll only think it’s a dream, 
like he always does.” 

They tapped at the door, and on the “ Come 
in ” entered. The learned gentleman was 
sitting in front of his untasted breakfast. 
Opposite him, in the easy chair, sat Rekh- 
mara ! 

“ Hush ! ” said the learned gentleman very 
earnestly, “ please, hush ! or the dream will 
go. I am learning. . . . Oh, what have I not 
learned in the last hour ! ” 

“ In the gray dawn,” said the Priest, “ I left 
my hiding-place, and finding myself among 
these treasures from my own country, I 
remained. I feel more at home here some- 
how.” 

“ Of course I know it’s a dream,” said the 
learned gentleman feverishly, “ but, oh, ye 
gods! what a dream! By Jove! . . .” 

“ Call not upon the gods,” said the Priest, 
“ lest ye raise greater ones than ye can 
control. Already,” he explained to the chil- 
dren, “ he and I are as brothers, and his 
welfare is dear to me as my own.” 

“ He has told me,” the learned gentleman 
began, but Robert interrupted. This was 
no moment for manners. 

“ Have you told him,” he asked the Priest, 
“ all about the Amulet ? ” 

“ No,” said Rekh-mara. 

“Then tell him now. He is very learned. 
Perhaps he can tell us what to do.” 

Rekh-mara hesitated, then told — and, oddly 


360 


THE AMULET 


enough, none of the children ever could re- 
member afterwards what it was that he did 
did tell. Perhaps he used some magic to 
prevent their remembering. 

When he had done the learned gentleman 
was silent, leaning his elbow on the table and 
his head on his hand. 

“ Dear Jimmy,” said Anthea gently, “ don’t 
worry about it. We are sure to find it to-day, 
somehow.” 

“ Yes,” said Rekh-mara, “ and perhaps, with 
it. Death.” 

“ It’s to bring us our hearts’ desire,” said 
Robert. 

“ Who knows,” said the Priest, “ what things 
undreamed-of and infinitely desirable lie 
beyond the dark gates?” 

“ Oh, dont” said Jane, almost whimpering. 

The learned gentleman raised his head 
suddenly. 

“ Why not,” he suggested, “ go back into 
the Past ? At a moment when the Amulet is 
un watched. Wish to be with it, and that it 
shall be under your hand.” 

It was the simplest thing in the world ! 
And yet none of them had ever thought of 
it. 

“ Come, cried Rekh-mara, leaping up. 
“ Come noio ! ” 

“ May — may I come ? ” the learned gentle- 
man timidly asked. “It’s only a dream, you 
know.” 

“Come, and welcome, oh brother,” Rekh- 


THE HEART’S DESIRE 


361 


mara was beginning, but Cyril and Robert 
with one voice cried “iVo.” 

“ You weren’t with us in Atlantis,” Robert 
added, “ or you’d know better than to let him 
come.” 

“ Dear Jimmy,” said Anthea, “ please don’t 
ask to come. We’ll go and be back again 
before you have time to know that we’re 
gone.” 

“And he, too?” 

“We must keep together,” said Rekh-mara, 
“ since there is but one perfect Amulet to 
which I and these children have equal claims.” 

Jane held up the Amulet — Rekh-mara went 
first — and they all passed through the great 
arch into which the Amulet grew at the 
Name of Power. 

The learned gentleman saw through the 
arch a darkness lighted by smoky gleams. 
He rubbed his eyes. And he only rubbed 
them for ten seconds. 


The children and the Priest were in a small, 
dark chamber. A square doorway of massive 
stone let in gleams of shifting light, and the 
sound of many voices chanting a slow, strange 
hymn. They stood listening. Now and then 
the chant quickened and the light grew 
brighter, as though fuel had been thrown on 
a fire. 

“ Where are we ? ” whispered Anthea. 

“ And when ? ” whispered Robert. 


362 


THE AMULET 


“ This is some shrine near the beginnings of 
belief,” said the Egyptian shivering. “ Take 
the Amulet and come away. It is cold here 
in the morning of the world.” 

And then Jane felt that her hand was on a 
slab or table of stone, and, under her hand, 
something that felt like the charm that had 
so long hung round her neck, only it was 
thicker. Twice as thick. 

“ It’s here!'’ she said, “ I’ve got it !” And she 
hardly knew the sound of her own voice. 

“ Come away,” repeated Rekh-mara. 

“ I wish we could see more of this Temple,” 
said Robert resistingly. 

“ Come away,” the Priest urged, “ there is 
death all about, and strong magic. Listen.” 

The chanting voices seemed to have grown 
louder and fiercer, the light stronger. 

“ They are coming ! ” cried Rekh-mara. 
“ Quick, quick, the Amulet ! ” 

Jane held it up. 


“What a long time you’ve been rubbing 
your eyes ! ” said Anthea ; “ don’t you see we’ve 
got back?” The learned gentleman merely 
stared at her. 

“Miss Anthea — Miss Jane ! ” It was Nurse’s 
voice, very much higher and squeaky and 
more exalted than usual. 

“ Oh, bother ! ” said every one. Cyril adding, 
“ You just go on with the dream for a sec. 
Mr. Jimmy, we’ll be back directly. Nurse’ll 



“THEY ARE COMING!” CRIED REKH-MARA 


364 


THE AMULET 


come up if we don’t. She wouldn’t think 
Rekh-mara was a dream.” 

Then they went down. Nurse was in the 
hall, an orange envelope in one hand, and a 
pink paper in the other. 

“ Your Pa and Ma’s come home. ‘ Reach 
London 11.15. Prepare rooms as directed in 
letter,’ and signed in their two names.” 

“ Oh, hooray ! hooray ! hooray ! ” shouted 
the boys and Jane. But Anthea could not 
shout, she was nearer crying. 

“ Oh,” she said almost in a whisper, “ then 
it loas true. And we have got our hearts’ 
desire.” 

“ But I don’t understand about the letter,” 
Nurse was saying. “ I haven’t had no letter.” 

“ Oh !” said Jane in a queer voice, “ I wonder 
whether it was one of those . . . they came 
that night — you know, when we were playing 
“ devil in the dark ” — and I put them in the 
hat-stand drawer, behind the clothes-brushes 
and ” — she had pulled out the drawer as she 
spoke — “ and here they are ! ” 

There was a letter for Nurse and one for 
the children. The letters told how Father 
had done being a war-correspondent and was 
coming home ; and how Mother and The Lamb 
were going to meet him in Italy and all come 
home together ; and how The Lamb and 
Mother were quite well ; and how a telegram 
would be sent to tell the day and the hour of 
their home-coming. 

“ Mercy me ! ” said old Nurse. “ I declare if 


THE HEART’S DESIRE 


365 


it’s not too bad of you, Miss Jane. I shall 
have a nice to-do getting things straight for 
your Pa and Ma.” 

“ Oh, never mind. Nurse,” said Jane, hugging 
her ; “ isn’t it just too lovely for anything ! ” 

“We’ll come and help you,” said Cyril. 
“ There’s just something dpstairs we’ve got 
to settle up, and then we’ll all come and 
help you.” 

“ Get along with you,” said old Nurse, but 
she laughed jollily. “ Nice help youd be. I 
know you. And it’s ten o’clock now.” 


There was, in fact, something upstairs that 
they had to settle. Quite a considerable 
something, too. And it took much longer 
than they expected. 

A hasty rush into the boys’ room secured 
the Psammead, very sandy and very cross. 

“ It doesn’t matter how cross and sandy it 
is though,” said Anthea, “ it ought to be there 
at the final council.” 

“ It’ll give the learned gentleman fits, I 
expect,” said Robert, “when he sees it.” 

But it didn’t. 

“ The dream is growing more and more 
wonderful,” he exclaimed, when the Psam- 
mead had been explained to him by Rekh- 
mara. “I have dreamed this beast before.” 

“ Now,” said Robert, “ Jane has got the 
half Amulet and I’ve got the whole. Show 
up, Jane.” 


366 


THE AMULET 


Jane untied the string and laid her half 
Amulet on the table, littered with dusty 
papers, and the clay cylinders marked all 
over with little marks like the little prints 
of birds’ little feet. 

Robert laid down the whole Amulet, and 
Anthea gently restrained the eager hand of 
the learned gentleman as it reached out 
yearningly towards the “ perfect specimen.” 

And then, just as before on the Marcella 
quilt, so now on the dusty litter of papers 
and curiosities, the half Amulet quivered and 
shook, and then, as steel is drawn to a 
magnet, it was drawn across the dusty 
manuscripts, nearer and nearer to the perfect 
Amulet, warm from the pocket of Robert. 
And then, as one drop of water mingles with 
another when the panes of the window are 
wrinkled with rain, as one bead of mercury is 
drawn into another bead, the half Amulet, 
that was the children’s and was also Rekh- 
mara’s, slipped into the whole Amulet, and, 
behold! there was only one — the perfect and 
ultimate Charm. 

“ And that's all right,” said the Psammead, 
breaking a breathless silence. 

“ Yes,” said Anthea, “ and we’ve got our 
hearts’ desire. Father and Mother and The 
Lamb are coming home to-day.” 

“ But what about me ? ” said Rekh-mara. 

“What is your heart’s desire?” Anthea 
asked. 

“ Great and deep learning,” said the Priest, 


THE HEART’S DESIRE 


367 


without a moment’s hesitation. “ A learning 
greater and deeper than that of any man of my 
land and my time. But learning too great is 
useless. If I go back to my own land and my 
own age, who will believe my tales of what I 
have seen in the future ? Let me stay here, and 
be the great knower of all that has been, in 
that our time, so living to me, so old to you, 
about which your learned men speculate 
unceasingly, and often, he tells me, vainly.” 

“ If I were you,” said the Psammead, “ I 
should ask the Amulet about that. It’s a 
dangerous thing, trying to live in a time that’s 
not your own. You can’t breathe an air 
that’s thousands of centuries ahead of your 
lungs without feeling the effects of it, sooner 
or later. Prepare the mystic circle and 
consult the Amulet.” 

“ Oh, lohat a dream ! ” cried the learned 
gentleman. “ Dear children, if you love me — 
and I think you do, in dreams and out of 
them — prepare the mystic circle and consult 
the Amulet ! ” 

They did. As once before, when the sun 
had shone in August splendour, they crouched 
in a circle on the floor. Now the air outside 
was thick and yellow with the fog that by 
some strange decree always attends the 
Cattle Show week. And in the street costers 
were shouting. “ Ur Hekau Setcheh,” Jane 
said the Name of Power. And instantly 
the light went out, and all the sounds went 
out too, so that there was a silence and 


368 


THE AMULET 


a darkness, both deeper than any darkness 
or silence that you have ever even dreamed 
of imagining. It was like being deaf or 
blind, only darker and quieter even than 
that. 

Then out of that vast darkness and silence 
came a light and a voice. The light was too 
faint to see anything by, and the voice was 
too small for you to hear what it said. But 
the light and the voice grew. And the light 
was the light that no man may look on and 
live, and the voice was the sweetest and most 
terrible voice in the world. The children cast 
down their eyes. And so did every one. 

“ I speak,” said the voice. “ What is it that 
you would hear ? ” 

There was a pause. Every one was afraid 
to speak. 

“ What are we to do about Rekh-mara ? ” 
said Robert suddenly and abruptly. “ Shall 
he go back through the Amulet to his own 
time, or ” 

“No one can pass through the Amulet now,” 
said the beautiful, terrible voice, “ to any land 
or any time. Only when it was imperfect 
could such things be. But men may pass 
through the perfect charm to the perfect 
union, which is not of time or space.” 

“Would you be so very kind,” said Anthea 
tremulously, “as to speak so that we can 
understand you ? The Psammead said some- 
thing about Rekh-mara not being able to live 
here, and if he can’t get back ” She 





THE CHILDREN CAST DOWN THEIR EYES. 


AND SO DID EVERY ONE. 


24 



370 


THE AMULET 


stopped, her heart was beating desperately, 
in her throat, as it seemed. 

“ Nobody can continue to live in a land and 
in a time not appointed,” said the voice of 
glorious sweetness. “ But a soul may live, if 
in that other time and land there be found a 
soul so akin to it as to offer it refuge, in the 
body of that land and time, that thus they 
two may be one soul in one body.” 

The children exchanged discouraged glances. 
But the eyes of Kekh-mara and the learned 
gentleman met, and^were kind to each other, 
and promised each other many things, secret 
and sacred and very beautiful. 

Anthea saw the look. 

“ Oh, but,” she said, without at all meaning 
to say it, “ dear Jimmy’s soul isn’t at all like 
Rekh-mara’s. I’m certain it isn’t. I don’t 
want to be rude, but it isnt, you know. Dear 
Jimmy’s soul is as good as gold, and ” 

“ Nothing that is not good can pass beneath 
the double arch of my perfect Amulet,” said 
the voice. “ If both are willing, say the word 
of Power, and let the two souls become one 
for ever and ever more.” 

“ Shall I ? ” asked Jane. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes.” 

The voices were those of the Egyptian 
Priest and the learned gentleman, and the 
voices were eager, alive, thrilled with hope 
and the desire of great things. 

So Jane took the Amulet from Robert and 


THE HEART’S DESIRE 


371 


held it up between the two men, and said, for 
the last time, the word of Power. 

“ Ur Hekau Setcheh.” 

The perfect Amulet grew into a double 
arch ; the two arches leaned to each other 
/\ making a great A. 

“ A. stands for Amen,” whispered Jane ; 
“what he was a priest of.” 

“ Hush ! ” breathed Anthea. 

The great double arch glowed in and 
through the green light that had been 
there since the Name of Power had first 
been spoken — it glowed with a light more 
bright yet more soft than the other light — 
a light that the children could bear to look 
upon — a glory and splendour and sweetness 
unspeakable. 

“ Come ! ” cried Rekh-mara, holding out 
his hands. 

“ Come ! ” cried the learned gentleman, and 
he also held out his hands. 

Each moved forward under the glowing, 
glorious arch of the perfect Amulet. 

Then Rekh-mara quivered and shook, and 
as steel is drawn to a magnet he was drawn, 
under the arch of magic, nearer and nearer 
to the learned gentleman. And, as one drop 
of water mingles with another, when the 
window-glass is rain-wrinkled, as one quick- 
silver bead is drawn to another quick-silver 
bead, Rekh-mara, Divine Father of the 
Temple of Amen-Ra, was drawn into, 
slipped into, disappeared into, and was 


372 


THE AMULET 


one with Jimmy, the good, the beloved, the 
learned gentleman. 

And suddenly it was good daylight and the 
December sun shone. The fog has passed 
away like a dream. 

The Amulet was there — little and complete 
in Jane’s hand, and there were the other 
children and the Psammead, and the learned 
gentleman. But Rekh-mara — or the body of 
Rekh-mara — was not there any more. As 
for his soul. . . . 

“ Oh, the horrid thing ! ” cried Robert, and 
put his foot on a centipede as long as your 
finger, that crawled and wriggled and 
squirmed at the learned gentleman’s feet. 

^^That,” said the Psammead, “was the evil 
in the soul of Rekh-mara.” 

There was a deep silence. 

“Then Rekh-mara’s him now?” said Jane 
at last. 

“ All that was good in Rekh-mara,” said the 
Psammead. 

“jEfe ought to have his heart’s desire, too,” 
said Anthea, in a sort of stubborn gentleness. 

“iTis heart’s desire,” said the Psammead, “is 
the perfect Amulet you hold in your hand. 
Yes — and has been ever since he first saw the 
broken half of it.” 

“We’ve got ours,” said Anthea softly. 

“ Yes,” said the Psammead — its voice was 
crosser than they had ever heard it — “ your 
parents are coming home. And what’s to 
become of me? I shall be found out, and 


THE HEAKT’S DESIRE 


373 


made a show of, and degraded in every 
possible way. I know they’ll make me go 
into Parliament — hateful place — all mud and 
no sand. That beautiful Baalbec temple in 
the desert ! Plenty of good sand there, and 
no politics ! I wish I were there, safe in 
the Past — that I do.” 

“ I wish you were,” said the learned 
gentleman absently, yet polite as ever. 

The Psammead swelled itself up, turned 
its long snail’s eyes in one last lingering 
look at Anthea — a loving look, she always 
said, and thought — and — vanished. 

“Well,’’ said Anthea, after a silence, “I 
suppose it’s happy. The only thing it ever 
did really care for was sand” 

“My dear children,” said the learned gentle- 
man, “ I must have fallen asleep. I’ve had the 
most extraordinary dream.” 

“ I hope it was a nice one,” said Cyril with 
courtesy. 

“Yes. ... I feel a new man after it. 
Absolutely a new man.” 

There was a ring at the front-door bell. 
The opening of a door. Voices. 

“It’s them!” cried Robert, and a thrill ran 
through four hearts. 

“Here!” cried Anthea, snatching the 
Amulet from Jane and pressing it into the 
hand of the learned gentleman. “Here — 
its yours — your very own — a present from 
us, because you’re Rekh-mara as well as 
. . . I mean, because you’re such a dear.” 


374 


THE AMULET 


She hugged him briefly but fervently, and 
the four swept down the stairs to the 
hall, where a cabman was bringing in 
boxes, and where, heavily disguised in 
travelling cloaks and wraps, was their 
hearts’ desire — three-fold — Mother, Father, 
and The Lamb. 


“ Bless me ! ” said the learned gentlemen, left 
alone, “ bless me ! What a treasure ! The dear 
children ! It must be their affection that has 
given me these luminous apergus. I seem 
to see so many things now — things I never 
saw before ! The dear children ! The dear, 
dear children ! ” 


THE END 


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